


all my nights taste like gold

by lipsouls



Category: LOONA (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Childhood Friends, F/F, Flashbacks, Friends to Lovers, Mild Sexual Content, Pining, Slow Burn, like literal years of pining, side chuuves + ryeji
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-18 09:34:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 52,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28741101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lipsouls/pseuds/lipsouls
Summary: "It's not like— it won't be the first time we've kissed," Jinsoul says. Slurs, really, her voice lower and her sentences slower than usual, which is just another reminder that neither of them are really in the right condition to be considering this. She’s not wasted, but she’s not sober either. "You're drunk, I'm drunk, we're both here, we're both— you know...”No, Jungeundoesn’tknow. She doesn’t know anything anymore because there's no way that Jinsoul — Jung Jinsoul, her best friend for over a decade, of which approximately half of that time Jungeun has been in love with her for, and who has never been anything but painfully, torturously heterosexual — is suggesting what Jungeun thinks she’s suggesting.(or, Jungeun falls in love with her best friend when she's sixteen, and never quite learns how to fall out.)
Relationships: Jung Jinsol | Jinsoul/Kim Jungeun | Kim Lip
Comments: 88
Kudos: 472





	1. one.

**Author's Note:**

> i. takes place over two timelines. flashbacks are indicated by **THEN** and current events are marked by **NOW**. the flashbacks span lipsoul from their first meeting as kids through to lip’s first year of university, and current events take place over lip's second year.
> 
> ii. please note the rating and the tags. this fic contains the kind of content you’d expect from a college au: alcohol, some weed use, some kissing whilst under the influence (all completely consensual), and one instance of mild sexual content. it’s brief and imo not that explicit, but if you’re under eighteen or it’s something that makes you uncomfortable then please don’t read.
> 
> iii. guest starring itzy and red velvet members bc i want lip and ryujin to be best friends and i love seulrene. loonitzyvelvet rise. chuuves and ryeji are the main side ships, and there's also 2jin, seulrene and viseul. other idols/ships show up too but they’re mostly just mentioned.
> 
> iv. jinsoul has a few irrelevant boyfriends throughout the course of the fic, all of whom are original characters, not any specific male idol in question. i just picked some random names, idc about bgs enough to know who’s in what group.
> 
> v. title from waking up slow by gabrielle aplin, and there's a happy ending. fuck angst.

**NOW.**

It’s only 10PM and Jungeun is already contemplating what her chances of sneaking out undetected are.

Normally, Jungeun’s fine with parties, but that’s when they’re smaller and more casual and Jungeun knows most of, if not everybody present. Right now, she can probably only name about ten out of the many, _many_ people packed into Joohyun and Seulgi’s apartment.

Joohyun’s birthday is one of the first of the school year, when people are excited to get back to college partying after spending the winter holiday in their hometowns away from their friends, and coupled with the fact that Seulgi is a social butterfly who’s friends with like, everyone, that tends to result in the kind of wild, lively party that Jungeun usually goes out of her way to avoid.

From the direction of the kitchen, Jungeun hears a crash, followed by the sound of breaking glass and a lot of yelling. She does not envy Joohyun and Seulgi and whoever they rope into helping clean up tomorrow.

She checks the time on her phone again. 10:02PM flashes back at her, almost mockingly, and she sighs. At least the music is good, although that’s a given considering half the people in the apartment are probably majoring in something music-related. She’s had one beer, two mixed drinks and one shot forced on her by Seulgi the second she stepped through the door earlier as some kind of entry fee, which is enough to give her a pleasant buzz and dull her usual mild discomfort with social situations as large as this to mere background noise, but not too much that the room has started spinning and she’s seeing more than one Jinsoul skipping towards her.

“Hi,” Jinsoul says when she reaches the sofa Jungeun has commandeered, handing her one of the two drinks she’s carrying. “Sorry I took so long, there was a situation in the kitchen. Someone bet Yeri that she couldn’t shotgun her beer while doing a handstand, and well, you know what she’s like. She took it personally.”

Jungeun scoots over so Jinsoul can sit down next to her, and it’s a tight enough squeeze that their thighs are pressed together. Jungeun is glad she’s wearing jeans, grateful for the barrier, however flimsy, separating her own thigh from the expanse of skin left bare by Jinsoul’s tiny shorts.

They had shown up to the party separately; Jungeun with Ryujin and then Jinsoul an hour or so later, third wheeling Jiwoo and Sooyoung. She’d lost track of Jinsoul for a while after their initial greetings, catching a few glimpses of her through the crowd, always in conversation with a group of at least three other people.

That’s just how Jinsoul is. While Jungeun prefers to watch from the sidelines, Jinsoul thrives as the centre of attention. She knows how to talk to people, how to start conversations and keep them flowing, how to do a lap of the room and return with three phone numbers and at least one new friend.

On paper, their contrasting personalities probably shouldn’t work. But in practice, Jinsoul makes up the perfect other half of their dynamic. Jinsoul’s always been able to get Jungeun to come out of her shell, holding her hand the whole time, and Jungeun’s always the one to ground Jinsoul when her head’s in the clouds, welcoming her back down to earth with open arms. Sun and moon. Night and day. Yin and yang.

Eventually Jinsoul had found her in the kitchen, rescuing Jungeun from where a particularly inebriated Seulgi was trying to convince her to try some of the ‘custom made’ jungle juice that is a suspicious shade of pink. They’d mingled for a while, chatting to an even drunker Joohyun before she’d been stolen away by some other friends, watched Sana and Momo absolutely destroy some boys that Jungeun doesn’t know in beer pong, gotten some air on the balcony with Jiwoo and Sooyoung until their unsubtle eyefucking got a bit too uncomfortable to witness, and now they’re here, semi-hiding on one of the sofas tucked away in the corner of Joohyun and Seulgi’s spacious living room.

Well, Jungeun is semi-hiding. She doesn’t really know why Jinsoul is still here keeping her company.

“How come you’re not out there?” Jungeun asks, nodding towards the makeshift dance floor — the living room floor with all the furniture pushed to the side — where there’s a mass of bodies grinding on each other to the bass of what is probably some underground hip-hop group that only Sooyoung is cool enough to have heard of.

“Because you’re here,” Jinsoul says, like it should be obvious. She takes a sip of her drink and then leans into Jungeun’s side, resting her head on Jungeun’s shoulder, content to just watch the party for now.

After twelve years, Jungeun is used to spontaneous cuddling; Jinsoul is an affectionate person anyway, always has been, and it only increases with the amount of alcohol she puts into her body. Twelve years, however, doesn’t seem to be long enough for Jungeun’s heart to stop doing that inconvenient little leap whenever Jinsoul touches her.

They end up leaving the party just after midnight.

In that time, Jungeun has had two more drinks, taken a few hits of the joint Sooyoung was passing around, been coaxed onto the dance floor for a few songs by Jinsoul and a very persistent Joohyun who insisted that Jungeun had to listen to her because _a) I’m older and wiser than you, and b) it’s my birthday bitch,_ and now she’s feeling pleasantly tipsy enough that the late night chill when they step out onto the street doesn’t really register.

Jinsoul, on the other hand, does _not_ like the cold, and instantly starts complaining. Jungeun links one arm with Jinsoul, the other with Ryujin, and they start the ten minute walk through the city to the apartment Jungeun shares with Ryujin and Jiwoo.

(Jiwoo was nowhere to be found when Jungeun was saying her goodbyes. Predictably, neither was Sooyoung, so Jungeun can only imagine that they had ignored the _stay the fuck out especially sooyoungs both ha and park_ sign taped to Joohyun and Seulgi’s bedroom door and would not appreciate being interrupted.)

Jungeun’s place is closer to Joohyun’s than Jinsoul and Sooyoung’s apartment, and Jinsoul usually comes over anyway whenever Jiwoo is staying with Sooyoung, both to give the couple some privacy and to prevent herself from accidentally overhearing things nobody ever needs to hear, so Jungeun hadn’t been too surprised when Jinsoul had thrown herself into Jungeun’s arms and dramatically declared that she’s staying over.

She pointedly ignores the raised eyebrow Ryujin sends her way when Jinsoul starts babbling about _getting more cuddle time with my favourite girl,_ and walks a little faster.

Ryujin disappears into her own room after bidding them goodnight when they get in, and Jungeun forces a glass of water on Jinsoul — her tolerance for alcohol might be higher than Jungeun’s, but her tolerance for hangovers is almost nonexistent — before ushering her into the bathroom and letting her get ready for bed.

When Jungeun comes into her room after brushing her teeth and taking her makeup off, Jinsoul is already curled up under the blanket. Jungeun switches the light off, manages not to trip over the clothes Jinsoul had thrown on the floor while getting changed into pyjamas, and slides into bed beside her. At the dip of the bed, Jinsoul lets out a sleepy grumble, rolling over and wrapping an arm around Jungeun’s waist before Jungeun’s even fully settled.

She breathes out a drowsy _goodnight Jungie_ that Jungeun feels ghost against the back of her neck. She tries not to shiver.

“Night, unnie,” Jungeun manages to get out after that brief moment she always needs to recalibrate, the one that happens every time Jinsoul says her name like that.

Jinsoul’s breathing evens out within minutes, but it takes Jungeun a lot longer to fall asleep.

Jungeun doesn’t really know when it began. When Jungeun was eight years old, Jinsoul burst into her life like a firework, bright and loud and captivating, and one day Jungeun realised she couldn’t look away. It crept up on her so slowly that it took Jungeun years to notice it was even there, and even longer still to admit it to herself.

Jungeun doesn’t know when it began. Maybe it was right from the moment they first met, when something drew her towards Jinsoul right from the very first moment, that red string of fate tugging her across Jeon Heejin’s backyard and into Jinsoul’s life, almost like they were meant to find each other. Or maybe it was after that, when Jinsoul became her best friend, her anchor, her partner-in-crime for everything from the ongoing prank war with Jiwoo and Heejin to anime marathons instead of studying to lazing around in Jinsoul’s backyard doing nothing at all. Or maybe it was later, in a closet in Park Chaeyoung’s house, or later still, when Jungeun realised she looked at Jinsoul the same way Jinsoul looked at Kang Heesu.

Jungeun doesn’t know when it began. All she knows is that at some point over the past twelve years, Jinsoul had snuck into her heart, made a home there, and never left.

It’s not like it’s some kind of shocking revelation. Jungeun knows she’s in love with Jinsoul. Just because it’s been dormant for a while and is just slowly waking up again doesn’t mean it’s something new.

(In retrospect, Jungeun never really stood a chance.)

  
  


**THEN.**

The first time they meet, it’s at Jeon Heejin’s eighth birthday party, when Jungeun is eight and Jinsoul is nine.

Heejin invites the entire population of their primary school, and a whole swarm of kids armed with brightly wrapped gifts pile into the Jeon’s backyard that afternoon. Jungeun knows most of them; she and Heejin have lived on the same street their whole lives, Jiwoo has been their other best friend since kindergarten, and she recognises most of the kids in their grade, but there’s one girl she sees by the snacks table, the one that Heejin’s dad is monitoring carefully so nobody tries to eat the entire bowl of chocolate like someone did at Heejin’s birthday last year, that she doesn’t know.

The girl turns around, a paper cup of juice in her hand, and Jungeun’s breath catches in her throat. Jungeun has never seen her before, she’s sure. She would definitely remember her.

Jungeun’s never really been the most outgoing or sociable of kids, preferring to draw or play about with her dad’s old polaroid camera or hang out with just Jiwoo and Heejin rather than a large group of other kids, so she isn’t sure what propels her into crossing the garden to talk to the girl.

Before she can second-guess herself, she’s at the snacks table. Unfortunately, her shyness rears its head again in the face of a stranger, and instead of saying hello like she originally intended, she chickens out and pretends to be interested in the selection of juices.

The mystery girl, however, doesn’t have the same problem as Jungeun, and smiles brightly at her as soon as she realises she has company.

“Hi!”

Jungeun just stares dumbly for a few seconds. The girl is a little shorter than Jungeun, she’s wearing a blue jumper patterned with pink and purple fish, and she has the prettiest smile Jungeun has ever seen.

“I’m Jinsoul,” the girl — Jinsoul — says, holding out her hand. “What’s your name?”

“Jungeun.” Jungeun shakes her hand after a moment’s hesitation. “I like your sweater.”

Jinsoul’s smile gets even wider, if possible. “Thanks. I like yours too.”

Jungeun looks down at herself, at the plain red sweater she’s wearing. If it were anyone else, Jungeun would think they’re being sarcastic. But Jinsoul sounds so genuine and so earnest that it’s difficult to not believe her.

Jungeun doesn’t know it yet, but inviting Jinsoul to join the game of duck duck goose that’s about to start feels like the right thing to do. So she does it.

Although she regrets it a few minutes later, when Jinsoul pats Jungeun on the head and shrieks _goose_ before taking off across the Jeon’s backyard, promptly tripping over her own feet and falling over. The entire circle of kids bursts into giggles, Jungeun included, but her laughter stops abruptly when she hears Jinsoul yelp.

Jungeun scrambles to her feet, rushing over frantically and crouching down next to Jinsoul. “Are you okay?”

Jinsoul groans and rolls over, and there’s a small trickle of blood already leaking from the cut on her forehead, having caught it on a stray rock hidden in the grass.

A couple of the other kids notice and start crowding around Jinsoul, who just looks more distressed at the audience. Her bottom lip wobbles visibly at the sound of more laughter, which is when Jungeun quickly takes her hand, helps her up and tugs her into the house in search of Heejin’s mom.

Jinsoul’s hand is warm and a little clammy, but Jungeun refuses to let go of it as Heejin’s mom fusses over Jinsoul in the bathroom. After Jinsoul is cleaned up with a little piece of gauze taped to her forehead, Jungeun tries to let go, but Jinsoul just squeezes tighter. Heejin’s mom mentions that there’s cake, which Jinsoul brightens up at, and when they’ve both got a slice of chocolate cake on the pink paper plates they go to sit under the big leafy tree in the corner of the Jeon’s backyard, still holding hands.

Jungeun’s mostly quiet, like she is around most people that aren’t Jiwoo or Heejin or her parents, but Jinsoul doesn’t seem to mind, happily doing most of the talking. Normally, Jungeun grows tired of kids that don’t shut up — Jiwoo and Heejin are quite enough loudness for her — but with Jinsoul it doesn’t bother her. Even though she technically is one, Jinsoul doesn’t really feel like a stranger to her.

Jungeun discovers that Jinsoul is a year older than her, she used to live on the other side of the city but moved to the neighbourhood over summer which explains why Jungeun hasn’t seen her at school before, she has a younger sister called Chaewon, and her favourite animal is a fish.

“A fish?”

Jinsoul pouts at her. There’s a smear of chocolate icing on her chin and Jungeun tries not to laugh. “What’s wrong with fish? What’s _your_ favourite animal?”

“I like owls.”

“Owls are cute. Very wise.”

“What’s your favourite kind of fish?”

Jinsoul’s eyes light up, and she launches into a very long and surprisingly detailed ramble about different breeds of fish. Jungeun hangs on to every word. She doesn’t think she’s ever met someone so honest and animated as Jinsoul, and she hopes she’ll get to see Jinsoul again sometime soon.

They’re still holding hands, and they only let go hours later, when Jinsoul’s parents arrive to pick her up, and Jungeun pouts long after the Jung’s car has disappeared into the distance.

That’s all it takes, really.

Jungeun barely remembers what they even talked about under the flowering camellia tree that afternoon, just that that one day set in motion something that has permeated her entire life. She’s loved Jinsoul since before she even really knew what love was. It’s a certain fact, as sure as the sun will rise each morning and set each night, as second nature to her as breathing.

Never changing, never wavering, always there. Just waiting for Jungeun to wake up and catch up.

  
  


**NOW.**

Early June, in that brief period of time between Sooyoung and Jinsoul’s birthdays, when Jungeun refuses to touch a single drop of alcohol because she’s either still recovering from the chaos of Sooyoung’s birthday or she’s trying to prepare for the upcoming chaos of Jinsoul’s, Ryujin convinces everyone to go out on a Saturday night.

It takes a bit of sweet-talking and a few aegyo-filled promises not to abandon her to go dance (Jinsoul) or flirt with a stranger (Ryujin) or make out with their girlfriend in the bathroom (Jiwoo), but eventually Jungeun agrees and she gets ready beforehand at Jinsoul and Sooyoung’s place.

Club-Sooyoung really looks no different than regular-Sooyoung; ripped black jeans, some designer label crop top that shows off her abs, topped with a leather jacket. Jinsoul, on the other hand, has swapped her usual denim shorts and soft sweaters for black jeans so tight they look painted on and a sleeveless white tshirt with a picture of a red lipstick print on it. Her hair is down, black waves tumbling down her back, and Jungeun has to make a conscious effort to keep her jaw attached to the rest of her head.

It’s been a while since she last saw Jinsoul truly dressed to kill; she will be genuinely surprised if Jinsoul manages to get through the door of the club without someone stopping her to hit on her.

Complicated feelings for her best friend and general distaste for loud sweaty clubs aside, Jungeun quite likes having cute girls flirt with her and buy her drinks, so she’s also made an effort, digging out the pair of shorts she knows makes her ass look good and pairing it with a black and white contrast shirt buttoned up to the top. Sooyoung wolf whistles obnoxiously at her when she walks out of Jinsoul’s bedroom after getting changed, and Jinsoul cheerfully says _looking good_ while wiggling her eyebrows in a ridiculous manner than does absolutely nothing to lessen Jungeun’s attraction to her.

“You know it’s a lesbian club, right?” Jungeun says, trying not to stare too openly at Jinsoul’s exposed biceps while she finishes off her makeup in the bathroom mirror.

Jinsoul makes a face. “ _Ryujin_ invited us. I had a hunch that this place would attract a certain crowd.”

“I’m just saying. Looking like that, I hope you’re ready to break a lot of poor gay hearts tonight.”

“I think I’ll manage,” Jinsoul laughs. “First of all, pretty much every one of my friends, including you might I add, is either a lesbian or bisexual.” Jinsoul pauses and looks thoughtful. “Or questionably straight.”

 _Not you though,_ a cruel voice in Jungeun’s head pipes up, _you’ve never even looked at a girl. Not once._

“Secondly, I’m regularly surrounded by sweaty, half-naked women at the dance studio where I am also regularly exposed to an unnecessary amount of PDA thanks to Joohyun-unnie and Seulgi-unnie. Also, I live with Sooyoung. _Sooyoung._ So, I think I’ll be able to handle it if some cute girl wants to buy me a drink,” Jinsoul finishes, putting the cap back onto her lipstick and flashing Jungeun a blood red grin that makes her shiver. “Besides, you’re one to talk. You think anyone’s going to be paying attention to me when I walk in next to you?”

Jinsoul reaches out, adjusting the collar of Jungeun’s shirt. She can feel the warmth of Jinsoul’s hand, even through the layer of fabric, and her predictable hopeless heart quickens when Jinsoul’s thumb grazes against her neck.

“What jacket did you bring?”

“My leather one,” Jungeun says. “The one without the nail polish stain on the sleeve that Heejin still swears wasn’t her.”

“Good. That’s— that's good. You look good in it.”

Jungeun is very aware of the minimal distance between them. It would be easy, it would be so, so easy to lean forward and close that distance, to see if Jinsoul tastes the same now as she did then, to see if her lips are as soft as Jungeun remembers.

That— that is something that Jungeun does not think about. She had her mandatory mental breakdown in one of Park Chaeyoung’s mansion’s spare bedrooms after she got locked in a closet with Jinsoul for seven minutes, and then she shoved it down and has been successfully suppressing it for the last four years.

Jinsoul is still lingering too close to her, her smug smile from Jungeun’s compliments having faded into something softer. She wonders if her heart will ever beat normally around Jinsoul, or if she’s just doomed to a life of skipped beats around her tragically straight best friend.

The moment is broken when someone clears their throat pointedly in the doorway.

“If you two are quite done,” Sooyoung says, in that annoying all-knowing voice like she’s privy to some big secret the rest of the world isn’t. Jungeun wonders how long she’s been standing there. “The Uber is outside.”

Jungeun takes a moment to recover, before she follows Jinsoul and Sooyoung out the door.

/

For once, the majority of the group can make it.

Jiwoo and Sooyoung, who are still in the honeymoon phase one year on from love at first sight; Ryujin, who’s been in love with her best friend since the beginning of time itself, and Yeji, who is the only person on the planet unaware of Ryujin’s feelings; Sana and Momo, two girls on the university’s dance team with Jinsoul and Sooyoung who Jungeun still can’t quite figure out if they’re together or just _really_ close friends; Heejin and Hyunjin, who have been living in domestic bliss after being assigned as roommates freshman year and then the subsequent several months of glaringly obvious pining; and Jinsoul and Jungeun who are... just friends.

The club Ryujin is taking them to is called Eden, and it’s in Itaewon, which tells Jungeun all she needs to know about the place, but stepping through the door after having being carded by an intimidating man with biceps the size of Jungeun’s head just makes it more apparent that this is not the type of establishment she would frequent on a regular basis.

Everything about the place looks expensive, from the dance floor the size of a football field filled with people clad in designer labels, to the DJ playing from a gleaming chrome balcony above the crowd and the numerous private booths and VIP areas roped off littered around the edge of the floor.

Jungeun’s idea of a fun Saturday night is like, a few drinks and belting out Girls Generation’s entire discography at their regular karaoke bar, or drunk Mario Kart at Jinsoul and Sooyoung’s apartment where, if she’s feeling particularly wild, she might even indulge in some of the weed Sooyoung always seems to have on hand. Not a neon-lit, packed to the brim, pretentious club where they charge you a month’s rent for one cocktail.

Jungeun can’t help but tense up for a few seconds, before a familiar hand slips into one of her own, as if sensing her apprehension.

“Hey, it’ll be fun, okay?” Jinsoul says, smiling that soft, gentle smile that instantly calms some of Jungeun’s nerves, just like it always does. “If you need some air or a break or something at any point, just come get me and we can get out of here for a bit.”

Jungeun squeezes her hand, giving her a grateful smile. “Thanks, unnie.”

The three of them are the last to arrive, and the others have already managed to secure a booth miraculously close to the bar. Jiwoo and Sooyoung greet each other with their usual amount of unnecessary enthusiasm — there’s a lot of tongue involved — Sana and Momo have definitely been pre-gaming for a while if the giggling is anything to go by, and Jungeun receives her second obnoxious wolf whistle of the day courtesy of Ryujin when she sits down next to her.

“Damn, who knew you could clean up so well?”

“Bite me,” Jungeun grumbles, and Ryujin just winks at her.

“Finally, took you three long enough,” Heejin grumbles. “What are we starting off with then? Tequila?”

There’s a resounding cheer from the booth, Heejin and Hyunjin make their way over to the bar, and Jungeun wonders how quickly things will get messy when it occurs to her that there’s no real chaperone for the night.

Normally, Joohyun and Seulgi find themselves taking turns as the designated babysitter for the night, being the oldest and (allegedly) more responsible ones. But they’re currently in Daegu with Yeri, Joohyun’s younger sister, visiting Joohyun’s family, so there’s no one to gently suggest to Heejin that starting off with shots maybe isn’t the best idea, or to explain to Ryujin why making out with some girl right in front of Yeji is not the master plan to get Yeji to fall in love with her that she thinks it is, or to remind Jungeun to drink water before she goes to sleep because she always forgets and then spends the next day curled up in the fetal position in her bed wondering how close to extinction she actually is.

(They take a big group selfie and Sooyoung sends it to Joohyun with the caption _MISS U BITCH,_ and Joohyun replies with a picture of herself looking slightly disgruntled, Seulgi tucked into her left side and Yeri tucked into her right side, both of them asleep and using her as a pillow.)

Heejin and Hyunjin return from the bar with a tray of shots _each_. The first one burns going down, the second is a little easier, and Jungeun declines the offer of a third in favour of slowly sipping a vodka and cranberry juice so she isn’t hugging a toilet before midnight.

They sit in the booth for a while, drinking and chatting, until a song comes on that Sana likes, and she and Momo are the first to depart to the dance floor. Heejin and Hyunjin follow them soon after, taking Yeji with them when they go. Jungeun gets sent to the bar for more drinks — she buys another round of tequila shots while she’s there because if she’s going to be suffering tomorrow morning then she is not going to be doing it alone — except when she returns to their booth, five drinks and five shots balanced precariously on a tray Jungeun is not at all confident about keeping upright, the rest of the group has scattered.

Less than thirty minutes. That’s all the time it took for everyone to forget their promises of not abandoning Jungeun. She will remember this betrayal.

Jungeun sighs, looking around in vain hope of spotting Ryujin’s pink hair or hearing Jiwoo’s loud voice. Another reason she doesn’t like clubs; when you lose somebody in a place this big and this populated, it takes nothing short of a miracle to find them again.

She does catch sight of Sana and Momo near the bar, where they appear to be simultaneously flirting with both each other and the girl standing between them who looks torn between being confused and turned on, and Jungeun just pretends she never saw them. Jiwoo and Sooyoung have either been swallowed up by the crowd on the dancefloor or found a dark corner to make out in — probably the latter. Ryujin has most likely disappeared into the mass of bodies to look for Yeji, without bothering to wait for her drinks that Jungeun is spending her hard-earned cash on, but Jungeun isn’t quite drunk enough yet to enter the fray to go looking for her.

And Jinsoul—

Out of nowhere, a pair of arms wrap around her shoulders from behind and a warm body presses against her back. Jungeun startles, almost dropping the tray of drinks before she relaxes when she recognises the perfume.

“Jungie,” Jinsoul whines in her ear. “Come dance with me.”

Jungeun has always been terrible at saying no to Jinsoul, and with three drinks already in her system and Jinsoul’s cloyingly sweet perfume making her dizzier than the alcohol, her tolerance is below zero.

“Wait,” Jungeun says, untangling herself from Jinsoul’s arms and shoving a tequila shot into one hand and the salt shaker into the other. “Here. This first.”

Jungeun catches a flash of pink when Jinsoul’s tongue darts across her wrist, wetting the skin before sprinkling salt on it, and she wills her thoughts to stay away from any potentially dangerous areas involving Jinsoul’s mouth. Jungeun does the same to her own hand, and Jinsoul taps her glass against Jungeun’s before lifting it to her mouth slowly, staring at Jungeun the entire time. Their eyes meet for several long electric seconds as they both tip their respective shots back. Jungeun feels incredibly off-balance, wondering if she’s imagining the borderline seductive look in Jinsoul’s eye as she picks up a slice of lime from the bowl on the table and bites into it, and she doesn’t think the tequila is completely to blame.

It's nothing, Jungeun reasons with herself, it’s just Jinsoul being her generic flirty self that appears after a few drinks. She’s been on the receiving end of a tipsy Jinsoul’s flirting a hundred times before, and while it’s no less heart-stopping every time it happens, she’s used to it by now.

“Can we dance now?” Jinsoul asks, holding her hand out and tilting her head to the side in a way that makes a not-entirely-sober Jungeun’s heart melt.

Nodding, she hands one of the mixed drinks to Jinsoul, keeps one for herself, leaves the other three on their table — eight hundred won wasted — and lets Jinsoul pull her out into the horde of people swaying around.

Time passes slowly on the dance floor. She dances with Jinsoul for a while, and then with Jiwoo and Sooyoung when they eventually resurface from down each other’s throats. Ryujin drags her and Heejin over to the bar and they order each other the weirdest sounding drinks on the menu. Joke’s on them though, the Pink Pelican that Ryujin orders for Jungeun is delicious, while Heejin does not look like she’s enjoying her Cement Mixer. They lose track of Yeji and eventually find her dancing in the middle of a circle of flamboyant gay guys, none of whom are wearing a shirt. One of them is wearing a tiara though, which somehow ends up on Hyunjin’s head.

Eventually — inevitably — Jungeun gravitates back to Jinsoul.

Jinsoul is a bit drunker than her now, no doubt thanks to all the drinks the little fan club she’s amassed have been buying her. Jungeun isn’t blind, she’s noticed the amount of attention Jinsoul’s been getting even if Jinsoul herself didn’t seem to realise until the first girl of many sidled up next to her and offered to buy her a drink. They stopped trying quite so hard after it became clear Jinsoul wasn’t going to reciprocate beyond some light flirting and one dance.

(Jungeun’s a little envious; those random girls realise Jinsoul is straight — actually straight, not just ‘straight’ — and they move on and will have forgotten about her by the next morning. Jungeun’s had years to try and get over Jinsoul and she’s still nowhere near succeeding.)

That doesn’t mean they don’t still turn a few heads when Jinsoul slides up behind her and wraps her arms around Jungeun’s waist. It’s nothing new. Personal space isn’t really a concept that has ever existed with them. Jinsoul gets touchier when she drinks, and when Jungeun drinks she forgets she isn’t supposed to like it so much.

“Jungie,” Jinsoul drawls right into her ear. “Hi. I missed you.”

“Having fun?”

Jinsoul nods, smiling brightly. “Better now that you’re here.”

Jinsoul tugs her closer, and Jungeun doesn’t really think about it, just lets the alcohol and music and Jinsoul’s hands on her waist guide her into swaying along to the beat of the music. Jungeun tips her head back, closing her eyes and leaning her head against Jinsoul’s shoulder. Jinsoul’s hands tighten minutely on her hips, and Jungeun forgets all about her usual aversion to the clubbing scene.

It’s what usually (always) happens whenever someone gets the urge to go out for drinks. Jungeun grumbles and complains and says she isn’t coming, and then Jinsoul pouts or Jiwoo bribes her with bubble tea or Heejin tells her to be sociable for once in her life so Jungeun has to do it out of spite, and she always ends up having fun.

She’s having fun now, carefree and weightless as she dances with Jinsoul.

And then the song changes from a remix of some Wonder Girls song to one that Jungeun doesn’t recognise — something slower and darker with a lot of bass — and Jinsoul’s fingers twitch against Jungeun’s waist.

Jungeun wonders for a moment where the line is for Jinsoul, before she’s abruptly pulled closer, her back pressing against Jinsoul’s front. Jungeun’s breath hitches, and Jinsoul’s hands slip a little lower, her fingers digging into Jungeun’s hips.

Okay, so. Not at the line yet.

They dance like that for what feels like hours, pressed in a long hot line together, so close that Jungeun barely knows where she ends and Jinsoul begins. The songs fade into one another, each new one as sultry and sensual as the last, and Jungeun feels like she’s dissolving into liquid, melting against Jinsoul.

Behind her, Jinsoul turns her head slightly, and her mouth brushes against Jungeun’s ear. The shock from the faint contact tingles through her whole body, and when Jungeun doesn’t object, Jinsoul buries her face into the side of Jungeun’s neck.

By now, their movement is less swaying along to the rhythm and more rolling their hips together, Jinsoul leading with the slow motions of her body while Jungeun’s just along for the ride. Distantly, Jungeun is aware that all of their close friends are somewhere in the vicinity, none of whom are aware of Jungeun’s deeply buried feelings, but with Jinsoul’s warm body pressed against her own and Jinsoul’s breath fanning across her neck with every exhale, Jungeun finds it hard to care.

God, she feels like she’s coming apart at the seams every time Jinsoul’s mouth brushes against her throat, and she kind of wishes she had worn something with a higher collar, if only so she could retain a tiny piece of her sanity.

(Where’s the line?)

Jungeun forgets for a second that this is Jinsoul, her straight-as-an-arrow best friend, and does what she would do if it was any other random girl dancing with her in a club; she reaches up and back and tangles one hand in Jinsoul’s hair. Unthinkingly, she scratches her nails against the back of Jinsoul’s neck, and has to bite her lip to stop herself from making any kind of embarrassing noise when Jinsoul swears under her breath, her voice low and thick.

How far, Jungeun wonders, is Jinsoul going to push this, before she snaps back to reality and realises that she’s borderline grinding on her best friend in a club. Granted it’s a gay club, one that’s dark even with all the strobe lights, while everyone else is either drunk or caught up in someone else or both, but still.

There’s a line. Where the hell is the line?

Jinsoul’s hips push harder against her, and it’s too much, and Jungeun can’t stand it anymore. She needs to see Jinsoul’s face, needs something to happen. She twists in Jinsoul’s arms, spinning around to face her.

When she looks at Jinsoul, Jinsoul’s already looking back at her. The blue and purple lights illuminate her face, her wide eyes and flushed cheeks. She’s sweating a little from the dancing and the warmth of the club, a faint sheen on her forehead. She looks both like Jungeun’s best friend and a stranger, somebody she’s never seen before, and the red of her lips is making Jungeun want to do something incredibly reckless.

(Where’s the line, where’s the line, where’s the line—)

Jinsoul’s gaze flickers down to Jungeun’s mouth, and Jungeun feels her heart stop. 

For a moment, it looks like Jinsoul is about to lean in, and then—

And then the moment is broken when a girl dancing next to them slips and falls, knocking into Jinsoul as she goes down and spilling her drink everywhere. Whatever bizarre spell Jinsoul was under shatters, and she takes a step back from Jungeun, looking startled as she frowns at her now damp arm.

The girl on the floor scrambles to her feet, looking slightly mortified, apologises profusely to Jinsoul in that earnest way drunk girls do for soaking Jinsoul’s arm in what smells horrifically like straight vodka, and then she and the other girl she’s with disappear into the crowd to continue dancing like nothing happened.

Jinsoul looks back at Jungeun, and there’s a long disorienting moment that lingers a little too long where they just stare silently at each other, before they’re interrupted again by Heejin and Hyunjin appearing beside them, Heejin hanging off Hyunjin’s shoulder and Hyunjin barking (?) along to the music.

Jungeun blinks, and breaks the stare first.

“Hi!” Hyunjin yells, right into her ear. She’s still wearing the tiara she was gifted from Yeji’s new friends. “Heekkie doesn’t feel well, I think she drank too much, so we’re leaving now.” Jungeun peers around Hyunjin to look at Heejin. She looks a little unsteady, but still holds up a peace sign, grins dopily at Jungeun and yells _what’s up bitch_ over the music. “I couldn’t find Jiwoo or Sooyoung-unnie but I didn’t want to just vanish without telling anyone.”

Hyunjin hugs them both goodbye and promises to text when she gets Heejin home. Heejin gets halfway through professing her love for both of them — _but like, no homo bro, well maybe a little homo for you, Jungie —_ accompanied by a horrific wink, before Hyunjin drags her away towards the exit, and then they’re alone again.

Well, as alone as they can be in the middle of a packed club.

A strange mix of emotions passes over Jinsoul’s face, far too quick for Jungeun to even begin speculating about, before she smiles at Jungeun, seemingly completely unaffected by whatever the hell just happened.

“I’m getting some napkins from the bar. You want another drink while I’m there?”

The smart, correct answer that Jungeun should give is _no._ “Sure,” she says instead, and lets Jinsoul take her hand and pull her towards the bar.

/

Later, when Jungeun’s reached her limit for overpriced drinks and the sea of sweaty bodies, she heads out for some air.

Jinsoul’s still inside, tracking down Sooyoung to let her know they’re leaving. Considering how much cuddlier Jiwoo gets when she’s drunk, it’ll probably be a while before she escapes.

Outside, she finds Yeji, scrolling through her phone and leaning against the wall a little ways down from the entrance and the people milling around outside.

“Hey, you alright?” Jungeun asks, pulling her jacket tighter around herself. It’s cold this late at night, even in early June.

“Yeah, just getting some air,” Yeji replies, tucking her phone into her pocket and taking in Jungeun’s appearance. “Are you leaving?”

“Yeah, Soul’s inside saying goodbye to everyone, I’m making sure no one steals our ride.” Jungeun holds up her phone, the Uber app telling her that their driver Jihyeok is thirteen minutes away in a white Hyundai. “Where’s Ryujin, we couldn’t find her inside?”

Yeji’s face goes carefully blank. “She left already. With some blonde girl.”

“Oh.”

Yeji doesn’t offer anything further, and Jungeun flounders a little. Jungeun might know a thing or two about being hopelessly in love with your best friend, but she has no idea what’s going on between Yeji and Ryujin other than there’s _something._

They’ve always been a package deal, and while she’s probably a bit closer to Ryujin than she is to Yeji — Ryujin is the one Jungeun went through the experience of sharing a dorm with last year, and it turns out accidentally setting the microwave in the communal kitchen on fire is the kind of thing that bonds you for life — Ryujin has never brought it up, and Jungeun has never questioned her about it.

Jungeun glances at her phone again. Jihyeok appears to be stuck in traffic, now fifteen minutes away, and given how drunk Jinsoul is just as affectionate as drunk Jiwoo, she’s probably got a good ten minutes before Jinsoul detaches herself and joins Jungeun outside.

“Yeji,” Jungeun says, slowly, carefully, because she a) doesn’t want to scare Yeji off, and b) has enough alcohol in her system to give her the bravery to ask. “What’s going on with you and Ryujin?”

Yeji’s jaw twitches. “Nothing.”

Jungeun’s spent the last year watching Ryujin and Yeji circling each other, waiting for them to fall into place, only for it to never happen. Jungeun figured out how Ryujin feels less than a month after being introduced to Yeji, but she has no real idea how Yeji feels.

“The way you two are around each other... It doesn’t seem like nothing, Yeji-ya.”

“We’re just friends,” Yeji says flatly. It sounds rehearsed, like she’s repeated it over and over to herself a hundred times.

“Is that all you want to be?”

Yeji doesn’t respond right away, instead choosing to stare broodily into the distance.

Behind them, muffled music plays from inside the club. It’s dark, but the street is still lit up from the streetlights overhead and the neon signs of Eden and the other places still open at this time. Across the road, there’s another club. Next to it is a slightly seedy looking dive bar. Down the road, separated from Eden by a Japanese restaurant that’s closed for the night, is a twenty-four hour fast food restaurant which probably makes the vast majority of its revenue around three in the morning when drunk party-goers stagger out of the bars and clubs in search of food.

“I know Ryujin’s in love with me,” Yeji murmurs after a few long moments. “Everybody thinks I’m oblivious, but I know. I’ve always known. Sometimes I think I figured it out before she did.”

That is not what Jungeun was expecting. _Yeji-and-Ryujin_ is one of those topics that everyone just sort of delicately avoids talking about, but Jungeun was pretty sure everyone, Ryujin included, had just assumed Ryujin would be forever pining after somebody who didn’t have any idea how she feels.

“Do you— is it mutual?”

Yeji sighs, and closes her eyes. “Of course it is.”

“Then why not say something?”

“Because I’m scared.” Yeji shrugs helplessly. “She’s my best friend. She’s been my best friend since we were kids, when we were five years old and she was chasing off the bullies that kept targeting me in the playground. And now I’m in love with her, and she’s in love with me, and it terrifies me because there’s no guarantee that if we got together that we would stay together. I could end up breaking her heart. Or—” Yeji’s voice cracks. “Or she could end up breaking mine. And if that happened, I wouldn’t just be losing my girlfriend, I’d be losing my best friend too.”

Jungeun tries not to look so surprised; she was _definitely_ not expecting all of that to just come pouring out.

“Isn’t love supposed to be about some people being worth the risk or something?” Jungeun says, quickly trying to figure out how to best navigate this conversation. “I mean, yeah there’s no solid assurance from the universe that sixty years from now you’re gonna wake up to Ryujin’s unflattering snoring— don’t give me that look, I lived with that girl for a year, I know what I’m talking about.” Yeji laughs weakly. “But there’s also no solid assurance that someone’s definitely going to get their heart broken. The way Ryujin looks at you, anyone can see that she’s head over heels for you. I think she’d rather break her own heart than yours.”

“I know. I know, but I’m just so scared of losing her,” Yeji murmurs quietly. “Once feelings are out in the open, you can’t stay just friends with someone. You can try to, sure, but if one of us confesses then everything will change whether we want it to or not, and I just— I don’t know if I’m ready for that yet.” Yeji swallows visibly, glancing sideways at Jungeun. “Don’t act like you don’t know what I mean.”

Jungeun blinks. “Huh?”

“You’re in love with Jinsoul-unnie, aren’t you?” Yeji says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and Jungeun stares open-mouthed at her. “You’re better at hiding it than Ryujin or I am, but I’ve seen the way you look at her when you think nobody’s watching. Hopeless recognises hopeless, I guess.”

“That’s different,” Jungeun says, only realising after the words are out that it isn’t a denial.

“Oh really?”

“Your thing with Ryujin isn’t hopeless if she’s in love with you too,” Jungeun says, trying not to flounder. “My... _thing_ is definitely a lost cause, because Jinsoul’s straight. She doesn’t feel the same.”

Yeji raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

Jinsoul has never been one to shy away from her emotions. Not like Jungeun, who’s taken every thought she’s ever had about her best friend since she was sixteen and stuffed them into a box and shoved it to a dusty disused corner of her mind to try and forget about it. Jinsoul is confident and brave and she’s always been honest with everybody, especially Jungeun. If there was ever a chance, even the smallest, slightest whisper of a chance, then surely she would have said something by now, wouldn’t she?

“Yeah,” Jungeun says, resolutely. “I’m sure.”

“Jungeun-ah, Yeji-ya!” As if on cue, Jinsoul’s voice singsongs behind them.

When Jungeun turns to look at her, Jinsoul has her jacket on now, hands shoved in the pockets, there’s a smudged pink lipstick mark on her cheek — no doubt a parting gift from Jiwoo — and her silhouette is backlit by the neon blue glow of the club sign. Jungeun feels something twist in her chest, a fracture in one of the many walls surrounding her heart.

(How is she supposed to stand a chance?)

Beside her, Yeji snorts quietly. “Alright, unnie. If you say so.”

  
  


**THEN.**

The years go by.

Jinsoul solidifies herself as Jungeun’s best friend, the fourth addition to their little trio, her favourite person in the world.

The world isn’t always the kindest to Jungeun — or at least, it certainly feels that way sometimes, like when there’s too many people and it’s too loud and she just wants everything to _stop,_ or when her parents fight with her sister about her grades, or when she gets the flu for a solid two weeks and then two days later she breaks her arm falling off her bike — but with Jinsoul by her side, it’s easier.

Things are good.

Until they’re not.

Until Jungeun realises she might have a small problem.

Well. It’s not a problem quite yet, but she has a creeping suspicion that it will become one soon. Sometime in the next few years.

They’re having lunch, the three of them sitting outside on one of the picnic benches in the school courtyard enjoying the late September heat, and Heejin and Jiwoo are having an intense discussion on the important topic of who the cutest boy in their year is. Which is apparently the only thing the majority of Jungeun’s peers seem interested in talking about lately. Jungeun preferred it when Pokémon was the current fad, not crushes.

Heejin is adamant that it’s Park Soobin because of his (apparently) adorable smile and the fact he’s actually nice to most of the girls unlike some of the boys, whereas Jiwoo is trying to convince Heejin that it’s Hwang Minho because of his (allegedly) cute Busan accent and the way his soft-looking blond hair falls just perfectly into his eyes.

Jungeun isn’t paying the slightest bit of attention, more focused on going over some of the math problems she’s been struggling with recently and wondering where the occupant of the fourth seat at their table is. Except then Heejin pokes her in the side, and Jungeun kind of has to pay attention to their squabbling.

“What?”

“Who do you think is cuter, Soobin or Minho?”

Jungeun thinks about the two boys. She certainly doesn’t dislike either of them; Soobin lives on her street so she’s known him longer, but Minho sits next to her in math and he’s always been nice to her. But that’s all they really are. Nice. _Cute_ isn’t really a word that comes to mind when she thinks about either of them.

Jungeun shrugs. “Neither.”

Heejin and Jiwoo level her with identical pouts. “You have to pick one.”

“Minho, I guess,” Jungeun says, hoping that’ll be enough for the pair of them.

“What do you mean you _guess_?” Heejin says, looking appalled that Jungeun hasn’t spent hours thinking about this like they both apparently have. “Who would you say then? Who do you have a crush on?”

“No one?” Jungeun says, and Jiwoo and Heejin both stare at her like she’s said something blasphemous.

“Like, no one just now, or no one ever?”

“I don’t— I don’t know,” Jungeun says, feeling a little self-conscious now. “What’s— how would I even know? What does it feel like?”

“Crushes are fun,” Jiwoo says. “Like, seeing them makes you feel nervous, but getting to see them is also the best part of your day, and if you know you’re going to see them later you spend the whole time looking forward to it.”

“Thinking about them makes you feel happy, you get butterflies when you get to talk to them, when they’re around you just want them to pay attention to you,” Heejin continues, listing them off like they’re symptoms on a checklist.

Feeling that way doesn’t sound particularly awful, but Jungeun still isn’t any clearer as to why half the girls in their year, Jiwoo and Heejin included, seem to have been struck by this new trend of giggling and blushing whenever a boy walks past them. Some boys are nice, some boys aren’t, but Jungeun doesn’t really have much interest in them either way.

Besides, they’re only fourteen. Jinsoul only turned fifteen a few months ago. They’re still just kids. Why should she care about things like crushes and romance and relationships? There’s so many things she’s more interested in than boys. Watching dramas with her older sister Soeun, but only when her parents are out because she’s probably a little too young to be watching some of them. Playing Pokémon Go even though Soeun claims she’s a little too old for it but still begrudgingly drives Jungeun to a Pokéstop a mile away so she can catch a Dratini. Spending time with her friends, playing in the park or chasing each other around Heejin’s spacious backyard. She has Jinsoul, and she has Jiwoo and Heejin, so why would she want anything or anyone else?

The longer Heejin and Jiwoo ramble about Soobin and Minho, the more uncomfortable Jungeun begins to feel, because she’s never felt like that. Not once. Not with Soobin and not with Minho. Not with any boy.

“Hey, sorry I’m late, Mrs. Son wanted to go over my biology homework and you know how she likes to talk.” Jinsoul’s voice suddenly sounds right beside Jungeun, as Jinsoul herself plops down into the empty space next to her. Her hair is a bit windswept and she’s slightly out of breath, like she ran across campus to get here. “Also, since I was going to be late anyway,” Jinsoul continues, taking out a carton of chocolate milk and placing it in front of Jungeun. “I went past the cafeteria for you. That’s the last one. I almost had to fight Kim Jennie for it.”

“Where’s ours?” Jiwoo pouts. “Or is it only Jungie you’d risk your life for?”

Jungeun tunes out the ensuing squabble as Jinsoul tries to defend herself on the basis that there was no strawberry or banana left — Jiwoo and Heejin’s favourites, respectively. She’s more focused on the carton of chocolate milk sitting innocently next to her math notes. It’s something Jinsoul’s done plenty of times before, picked up an extra carton for Jungeun because she knows about Jungeun’s sweet tooth, so she doesn’t know why this time has caused a peculiar fluttering sensation in her stomach.

Once Jinsoul has finished bickering with Jiwoo and Heejin, and the other two are already back in discussion about Kim Hyojung’s (supposedly) cute smile, Jinsoul turns her attention back to Jungeun.

“Are these the problems you were having trouble with?” Jinsoul asks, pointing at the notepads spread out in front of her. Jungeun nods, and Jinsoul shuffles closer on their side of the table, stealing a bit of Jungeun’s gimbap while she peers at the numbers scribbled over the paper.

Jinsoul can be a little... _ditzy_ at times, but she’s incredibly smart, especially when it comes to numbers, and the second Jungeun started complaining about not understanding, she had immediately offered to help.

 _What do you want in return,_ Jungeun had asked, and Jinsoul had just looked at her in confusion, eyebrows furrowed in that cute way, and said, _nothing, I just want to help you if you’re struggling._

That’s just how Jinsoul is; sweet, kind, always willing to help.

Jinsoul smiles softly at Jungeun when she catches her staring, and the strange feeling in her stomach doubles.

Almost like she’s nervous, but what does she have to be nervous about? It’s just Jinsoul. Dorky, goofy Jinsoul who likes Lego and math, who makes Jungeun watch anime and nature documentaries with her, who’s been her best friend for years.

(Almost like butterflies taking flight.)

Jungeun’s heart skips a beat when Jinsoul’s thigh bumps against hers under the table, and—

Oh.

“Unnie,” Heejin pipes up. “Do you have a crush on anyone?”

Jungeun’s never felt like that.

Jinsoul shakes her head, opening her backpack to find her own food instead of stealing Jungeun’s. “Not at the moment, no.”

Not once.

“But you’ve had crushes before?” Jiwoo asks.

Not with a boy.

“A few,” Jinsoul admits. “Nothing that exciting though.”

Everything Jiwoo and Heejin said, every symptom on that Crush Checklist like she’s being tested for some debilitating disease, Jungeun has felt all of them.

Just not for a boy.

/

The seasons change, autumn turns into winter as the school year goes by, and before she knows it Jungeun has just turned fifteen and in less than a month will be starting her final year of middle school. Jinsoul, on the other hand, being a year older than Jungeun, Jiwoo and Heejin, is about to enter her first year of high school.

It will be the first time they’re no longer attending the same school, and to make matters worse, the high school is in the opposite direction to the middle school, so they can’t even walk to school together with Jiwoo and Heejin the way they always have.

But at least she has another three weeks of spending all her free time with Jinsoul. It’s a Thursday afternoon, just the two of them, making the most of the time they have left before school starts again and Jungeun has her Jinsoul time drastically lowered. Both of Jinsoul’s parents are at work and Chaewon is at a friend’s house. There’s one of Jinsoul’s nerdy animes playing on the television in her bedroom that neither of them are really paying attention to; Jinsoul’s more focused on the complicated looking Lego model of a dragon she’s halfway through constructing, and Jungeun’s providing moral support while periodically passing Jinsoul the pieces she needs.

“Have you ever kissed anyone?”

It’s out of Jungeun’s mouth before she can really think about it, and she immediately wants to take the words back. She doesn’t even know why she instantly feels so weird asking Jinsoul that. They’re best friends, it’s what best friends talk about at the age where boys stop being disgusting and start being cute.

Well, that’s how Jungeun thinks it’s supposed to go. She’s still waiting for it to actually happen. For a boy to give her butterflies the way only Jinsoul has managed to achieve so far.

“Um, no,” Jinsoul says, looking slightly surprised as she glances up from the wing she’s assembling. “Why? Have you?”

“No. I would tell you if I had.”

“Yeah, me too,” Jinsoul says, and for a moment Jungeun thinks that’s it, they can change the subject and forget she ever brought this up. Except then Jinsoul smirks and wiggles her eyebrows. “Why are you asking? Is there someone you want to kiss?”

“Ew, no.” Jungeun makes a face, and Jinsoul laughs. “Heejin’s sister was talking about it yesterday when I was over, that’s all. She told Heejin and me that she had a date at the weekend and he kissed her at the end of it. She made it seem like such a big deal as well.”

“What do you mean?”

“She was talking about how nervous she was when he was walking her to the door after, and she got all flustered when he went to lean in, and she didn’t really know what she was doing so she was worried she wouldn’t be good at it,” Jungeun says, passing Jinsoul a red Lego brick that she can see her looking around for. “But he texted her today, according to Heejin, so I guess she didn’t suck. I guess it just got me wondering what the big deal about it is. She just made it sound like this huge thing, having your first kiss, like you’re somehow going to be a different person after you do it than you were before.”

“Do you think you are?”

“Huh?”

“A different person after you do it?”

Jungeun laughs. “I mean, it can’t possibly be that incredible that it literally changes you as a person, can it?”

Jinsoul doesn’t answer with anything more than a thoughtful hum, and it’s silent for a few moments as Jinsoul concentrates on sticking several smaller bricks together.

“We could do it.”

Jungeun snaps her head around to look at Jinsoul, who is suddenly very interested in the instruction manual for the dragon model that she hasn’t been paying the slightest bit of attention to so far. There’s a strange expression on her face, like she’s trying too hard to keep her expression neutral, and her cheeks have gone slightly pink.

Jungeun stares at her. “What?”

“You just said you wanted to know what the big deal was, didn’t you?” Jinsoul says, still not looking at Jungeun. “So do I. And, well— you only get one chance at a first kiss, so you may as well make it count and do it with someone you trust, and I trust you.” Jinsoul’s voice cracks slightly, and she pauses to clear her throat. “We could just get it over with now. It’s not like anyone has to know.”

“But we’re both girls?”

“So? Kissing a girl’s probably just like kissing a guy.” Jinsoul makes a face. “Although girls probably smell better. Besides, it’s not like it’s real. It’s just so we’re not completely inexperienced when we both find boys we actually want to kiss.”

Jungeun knows it isn’t intentional on Jinsoul’s part, but the way she says it like it’s an inevitability that they’re both going to end up kissing boys, like it’s something she’s going to have to do eventually, makes her stomach twist uncomfortably.

There is a small part of Jungeun, that she tries her best to ignore most days, that isn’t sure she’s ever going to want to kiss a boy, because she isn’t ever going to be interested in _boys_ at all. Surely kissing Jinsoul, even if it’s just for practice, just to get it out of the way, will make it harder to silence that voice in her head.

(Surely kissing Jinsoul will make it harder to ignore the way her stomach flutters and her heart beats faster around her best friend in a way that it most decidedly should not.)

“I mean I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to suck at it when I eventually _do_ do it, you know?” 

Whenever someone (Jiwoo) brings up crushes, a particularly unpleasant form of anxiety settles in her stomach, because Soobin and Minho and the rest of the boys at school still hold the same amount of appeal as they did six months ago when Jiwoo and Heejin first brought it up. Which is to say, exactly none. Maybe, Jungeun tries to reason with herself, the only reason she isn’t interested in kissing them is because she doesn’t know what kissing is like. Maybe if she gets it over with now, with Jinsoul, she’ll walk into school on the first day of her final year and suddenly see Soobin in a new light.

 _You’re still young, you’ll grow to like boys eventually. You just haven’t found the right one yet. You’re just a late bloomer._ All things she’s heard people say whenever Jungeun mentions her disinterest in crushes and boys as a whole, and all things she clings to to try and convince herself that she’s not broken.

Jinsoul interprets her silence as reluctance. “We don’t have to if you’re—”

“No,” Jungeun blurts out. “It’s okay. We can— we can do it.” Jinsoul raises an eyebrow, like she doesn’t completely believe Jungeun. “Like you said, may as well make it count, right? I trust you too, unnie.”

They’re sitting on the floor of Jinsoul’s bedroom, leaning against the bed with Lego pieces scattered around them and the television playing quietly in the background. Jinsoul turns until she’s facing Jungeun properly, scooting forward a few inches until their knees bump together.

Jungeun’s heart quickens, the close proximity to Jinsoul making her feel flustered in a way she hasn’t really felt before. Jinsoul looks equally nervous though, her eyes all big and wide, so it’s reassuring to know that Jungeun isn’t the only one feeling like this.

Jinsoul reaches out with a noticeably shaky hand and gently cups Jungeun’s jaw. The contact brings her back down to Earth, reminds her that _yes_ this is really happening. She’s about to kiss her best friend.

Jungeun can’t even look Jinsoul in the eye; she stares at her lips instead. They’re pink, slightly shiny from the watermelon chapstick Jinsoul likes, and look very soft. God. She’s about to have her first kiss, with her best friend. Is it supposed to feel this overwhelming?

“You sure?” Jinsoul murmurs, and she’s close enough that Jungeun can feel her breath tickling her own mouth.

Jungeun nods, not trusting her voice.

“Okay, good,” Jinsoul says, decidedly, and guides their mouths together.

It’s soft. That’s the first thing Jungeun thinks. Jinsoul’s lips are soft and there’s a warm pressure where her mouth is pressed against Jungeun’s. It’s timid, tentative, and only lasts a few seconds before Jinsoul is pulling back.

“Was that alright?” Jinsoul asks, her voice quiet, like any louder will shatter the little world they’re in.

Jungeun nods, ignoring how clammy her hands are. “Yeah. I— should we try again?”

Jinsoul looks a little surprised, but nods as well, leaning back in.

She kisses Jungeun again, a little harder this time, her head tilted so she can fit their lips together properly and— and this time it’s better. Automatically, Jungeun parts her lips slightly, so she can feel Jinsoul’s mouth actually moving against her own. It’s soft and it’s short but it’s _real,_ like a camera flash catching her off-guard and rendering the rest of her numb for a few moments. It lasts a little longer this time, before Jinsoul is pulling back to blink owlishly at Jungeun.

“Good?” Jinsoul asks.

“Yeah,” Jungeun says. “Good."

“Good,” Jinsoul says, grinning as she goes back to the Lego model.

Jungeun still doesn’t really get why everybody seems to want to do it all the time, but it’s not awful. She could grow to like it, maybe if it were with somebody she actually wants to kiss.

Because she doesn’t want to kiss Jinsoul.

She doesn’t. She _can’t._

Jungeun is very aware that this is not something she should actually want. She knows the words, the labels, the insults, all big red arrows pointing towards her and singling her out as someone _different._ Jungeun doesn’t want to be different. She just wants to be a normal teenager, who gets crushes on boys and doesn’t spend any amount of time wondering if her best friend’s lips are as soft as they look.

(They are.)

Without really thinking about it, Jungeun licks her lips as she turns her attention back to the Lego manual. She can still taste the watermelon of Jinsoul’s chapstick.

  
  


**NOW.**

Ever since Jungeun followed Jinsoul to Seoul and was introduced to the wonders of bars and fruity cocktails, they’ve always had the same routine for the day after a party or a night out; they’ll go home together, sleep until mid to late morning cuddled up together, Jungeun will either drag a complaining Jinsoul out for brunch or cook breakfast herself depending on how fragile she’s feeling — always Jungeun, never Jinsoul, because the Jung kitchen curse extends beyond just Chaewon — and then they’ll take up residence on the sofa or back in bed — again, depending on levels of fragility — and binge watch whatever current drama Jungeun’s taken to because the lead actress is hot or one of Jinsoul’s dorky nature documentaries while Jinsoul whines about her hangover and Jungeun pays her extra attention.

Just because in one delusional, tequila-soaked moment Jungeun convinced herself Jinsoul was about to kiss her doesn’t mean that that routine is going to change. It doesn’t mean that anything’s changed. Jungeun still isn’t entirely convinced it actually happened and that it wasn’t just some kind of bizarre hallucination brought about by watching Jinsoul sucking suggestively on a slice of lime one too many times, messing with her head and making her see things that aren’t there.

Besides, Jinsoul seems completely unaffected by the entire thing; she’s sprawled out on Jungeun’s bed playing on her phone when Jungeun comes into her room after getting ready for bed, immediately pouting and complaining that Jungeun took too long and she wants to cuddle.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a very high-maintenance best friend?”

“Nope, never,” Jinsoul says with an innocent smile, shuffling over and patting the empty space next to her.

Jinsoul clearly isn’t still thinking about how it felt to be pressed against one another, so Jungeun does her best to shove it out of her mind, turning off the lights and climbing into bed next to the very person she’s trying _not_ to think about, gets comfortable, and checks the few notifications on her own phone.

Hyunjin has sent her a series of texts that starts with _heejin just hit on our uber driver_ and ends with _heejin just threw up in the kitchen sink._ So at least they made it home, even if Heejin might die tomorrow.

There’s a string of unintelligible gibberish and emojis from Jiwoo that might take a while to translate — she thinks it ends with _love you whore-unnie_ and the various tongue emojis are kind of self-explanatory so at least she knows Jiwoo isn’t being murdered or something.

Sooyoung has sent her a single cowboy emoji with absolutely no context. Jungeun ignores that one.

There’s an Instagram notification as well — _jjinsoul97 tagged you in a post! —_ and when she opens it she sees Jinsoul has posted the selfie they took with Sooyoung in the taxi on the way to Eden. Jungeun is sandwiched between them, both of them holding up peace signs, Sooyoung winking at the camera and Jinsoul resting her head on Jungeun’s shoulder. It’s not a bad photo of Jungeun, quite the opposite in fact, if she does say so herself, but she can’t help but look at Jinsoul next to her, looking otherworldly pretty even in the shitty lighting of streetlights through the taxi window, and then look back at herself, and think _why the hell would she ever want you?_

She’s hyper aware of Jinsoul’s body next to her and the minimal space between them, more so than usual. Apart from Jinsoul’s (freezing) toes trying to wiggle their way under Jungeun’s calf, they’re not touching, but out of the corner of her eye Jungeun can see Jinsoul’s hand, the one not holding her phone, fidgeting slightly, like she’s holding herself back from something.

After she’s double tapped the photo and commented with a few heart emojis, Jungeun puts her phone on her nightstand and pushes at Jinsoul’s shoulder to roll her onto her side. She’s in the mood to be the big spoon for once; she feels a little off-balance after having Jinsoul all over her earlier in the club, and having to spend the rest of the night with Jinsoul wrapped around her like a limpet, her soft breathing tickling the back of Jungeun’s neck like it always does... Jungeun isn’t sure she can handle that.

Jinsoul, however, takes offense at being relegated to the little spoon, and she shoves Jungeun in response, and then Jungeun shoves her right back, and then they’re shoving each other and squealing and wrestling around on Jungeun’s bed like kids. Or tipsy twenty year olds.

They scuffle for a bit as both of them try to overpower the other, Jinsoul shrieking at one point loud enough that Jungeun really hopes Ryujin and her ‘friend’ haven’t returned here for their little rendezvous, and Jungeun tries valiantly, but Jinsoul is bigger and stronger and she eventually wins out, successfully pushing Jungeun onto her back and pinning her down.

It’s no different than the play-wrestling and tickling fights when they were kids, when chasing each other around the playground or Jinsoul’s backyard or the park while Jungeun’s mom yelled at them to be careful had been the best part of Jungeun’s day.

Now, looking up at Jinsoul, the warmth that floods through her chest and stirs in her stomach is a far cry from their harmless child’s play. This close, she can see every detail on Jinsoul’s face. The scar between her eyebrows from that ill-fated game of duck duck goose so long ago, each individual eyelash and the little smudge of mascara she’s missed on her left eye, the way her lips are still shiny and red even with her lipstick wiped off, like she’s been licking and biting at them the whole time she’s been lying next to Jungeun. Any closer and Jinsoul would probably be able to feel the way Jungeun’s heart is ricocheting around her chest.

It’s dark in Jungeun’s room. Half of Jinsoul’s face is drenched in shadow, the other half illuminated by the moonlight seeping in through the cracks in the curtain. It’s dark, but Jungeun doesn’t miss the way Jinsoul leans down slightly, and this time she’s definitely not imagining it. There’s no strobe light effects or people bumping into them to blame it on.

“Jungie,” Jinsoul murmurs, her eyes flickering down to Jungeun’s mouth.

Jungeun can’t breathe. Can’t do anything except stare transfixed at Jinsoul’s face inches from her own. Her voice is far lower than she expected and more vulnerable than she would like when she eventually manages to get words out. “Jinsoul, what are you doing?”

“Jungie,” Jinsoul repeats, ignoring her question and dipping her head close enough that Jungeun feels their noses brush. “Can I kiss you?”

Jungeun’s heart stops, reboots, and starts beating at a slightly alarming pace.

“What?”

"It's not like— it won't be the first time we've kissed," Jinsoul says. Slurs, really, her voice lower and her sentences slower than usual, which is just another reminder that neither of them are really in the right condition to be considering this. She’s not wasted, but she’s not sober either. "You're drunk, I'm drunk, we're both here, we're both— you know...”

No, Jungeun _doesn’t_ know. She doesn’t know anything anymore because there's no way that Jinsoul — Jung Jinsoul, her best friend for over a decade, of which approximately half of that time Jungeun has been in love with her for, and who has never been anything but painfully, torturously heterosexual — is suggesting what Jungeun thinks she’s suggesting.

“It's not a big deal."

 _It’s not a big deal._ That— that stings a little. Aches, actually, in a way that Jungeun has been trying to ignore for years now. But it’s clearly not an ache that Jinsoul’s ever felt, and right now she’s offering something, something that she’s unlikely to ever offer again because really, why the hell would she? She might be single at the moment, but it’s only a matter of time before some six foot adonis with dimples and abs and swoopy bangs that fall perfectly into his eyes comes in and sweeps her off her feet, and Jungeun... 

Well, at the end of the day, Jungeun has always been entirely too weak when it comes to her best friend.

So instead of saying anything, Jungeun cups the back of Jinsoul’s neck with her hand and pulls her down to press their lips together. Jinsoul makes a small noise of surprise, like she wasn’t actually expecting Jungeun to agree, before she’s kissing Jungeun back, eager and wanting, and it’s _electric._

Her mind goes blank, empty of anything except the warm wet pressure of Jinsoul’s mouth. Jinsoul’s lips are soft and she tastes like toothpaste and faintly of peach soju and Jungeun almost whimpers when Jinsoul’s tongue brushes against her bottom lip. Jungeun arches closer to the heat of Jinsoul’s body, and she melts further into the kiss when one of Jinsoul’s hands cups her jaw, thumb brushing softly against her cheekbone.

Clinging onto the back of Jinsoul’s tshirt — a faded I Heart New York one that she stole from Jungeun years ago — with one hand, Jungeun slides her other hand from Jinsoul’s neck into her hair, tilting her head to kiss Jinsoul deeper.

Jinsoul sucks at Jungeun’s lower lip, coaxes her mouth open with her tongue, makes a sound that Jungeun feels more than hears, and it steals the breath right out of Jungeun’s lungs, steals all the thoughts from her head other than the one telling her that this one taste of Jinsoul isn’t going to be enough. It’s never going to be enough, and Jungeun is still going to want her tomorrow, and then the day after, and then the next week, and then the next month. It’s impossible to picture a world in which she _doesn’t_ want Jinsoul so much that it makes her ache.

They stay like that for what feels like hours, Jungeun losing track of time and space and everything that isn’t Jinsoul’s lips and tongue moving against her own, until she’s struggling to keep her eyes open and yawning in between kisses.

“C’mere,” Jinsoul murmurs sleepily, wrapping her arms around Jungeun and pulling her close to curl against her front. Jinsoul’s warm and comfortable and hums in content when Jungeun slides her arm around Jinsoul’s waist, her fingers accidentally brushing against her lower back where the skin has been left bare by her tshirt riding up. Jungeun tucks her head under Jinsoul’s chin, breathes in her familiar scent, and falls asleep within minutes.

/

(They don’t talk about it.)

The morning after, Jungeun wakes up to a face full of black hair and pins and needles in her left arm. She has approximately two seconds of that nice newly-awoken state of peace before the previous night comes rushing back to her and all she can think is _oh fuck._

Jinsoul is here.

Jinsoul is still here, in her bed, because they went home last night and then Jinsoul asked if she could kiss Jungeun and Jungeun said yes because she’s an idiot with zero sense of self-preservation. The uncomfortable numb sensation in her left arm is from Jinsoul lying on it all night because they fell asleep curled up in each other’s arms after kissing for ages, long enough that Jungeun can still feel the phantom press of Jinsoul’s mouth on her own. Jinsoul is still here, possibly drooling on Jungeun’s shirt as she mumbles something in her sleep, which means Jungeun didn’t imagine any of it. It wasn’t some kind of tequila-induced, overly detailed fever dream. It was real.

Fuck.

She manages to wriggle out of Jinsoul’s sleepy clutches without waking her up, freaks out for a while in the safety of the shower, and when she’s mustered up enough courage to come back into her room, Jinsoul’s beginning to stir awake.

“Good morning,” Jinsoul mumbles, blinking slowly at Jungeun before shoving her face back into the pillow. “I’m hungry.”

Jungeun opens her mouth, intending to cut right to the chase and say something like _are we going to talk about last night_ or _shall we discuss your apparent newfound sapphic tendencies over breakfast,_ but the sight of Jinsoul curled up in her bed, snuggling into Jungeun’s owl plushie that Jiwoo got her for her birthday a few years ago like it’s a substitute for Jungeun herself, tugs at something inside her chest and the words get stuck in her throat.

If Jungeun brings it up, if they talk about it like two mature adults _should_ do, Jungeun’s going to have to listen to Jinsoul laugh it off — _haha super crazy how we made out last night huh? —_ or blame it on the alcohol — _I was really drunk, Jungie, I don’t really remember much —_ or call it a mistake — _it probably shouldn’t have happened, I don’t want things to be weird —_ and then she’s going to have to nod and agree like Jinsoul acting like it meant nothing doesn’t twist the knife even further into the best-friend-shaped wound on her heart.

So really, what’s a few more hours of pretending like nothing happened? It’s merely self-preservation; despite what current events suggest, Jungeun likes to think she has a shred of that left.

So instead, Jungeun says, “Do you want me to make something or do you want to go out?”

“Can we go out?” Jinsoul yawns. “There’s this new café near campus that Seulgi-unnie recommended that I’ve been wanting to try, and I could use the fresh air.”

And that’s it. They don’t talk about it.

They go for breakfast, and Jinsoul doesn’t bring it up, so neither does Jungeun. They go back to Jungeun’s so they can start a drama Sooyoung’s been raving about for a while, and Jinsoul doesn’t bring it up, so neither does Jungeun. Ryujin reappears just after one and immediately starts detailing her entire sordid encounter with _Seoyeon,_ and Jinsoul doesn’t bring it up once Ryujin is out of earshot, so neither does Jungeun.

Jungeun stresses and overthinks and has another little crisis about it once Jinsoul’s left later in the afternoon, and then she shoves it deep down with all her other Jinsoul-related angst and refuses to think about it. She does not think about Jinsoul’s hands on her waist in the club or Jinsoul’s voice pitching low and asking if she can kiss her or Jinsoul’s lips against her own, ruining her for anybody else out there.

Jungeun refuses to think about any of it, because it was obviously an isolated incident and it’s not like it’s going to happen again.

/

It happens again.

On Jinsoul’s birthday, everyone congregates at Jinsoul and Sooyoung’s apartment to pre-game, and then they go out to one of the group’s favourite spots, a dance club in Hongdae called Rendezvous that has miraculously cheap drinks and surprisingly good music. At the end of the night Jungeun goes home with Jinsoul, because that’s what they do every other time and why would now be any different, and the front door has barely closed behind them before Jinsoul is crowding Jungeun against it and kissing her like she’s been aching to do it the entire night.

They still don’t talk about it.

Early July, Jungeun is stuck on a closing shift at the café she works part-time at, and by the time she’s rushed home, gotten changed and met the others at the karaoke bar, Jinsoul is already tipsy enough to grab Jungeun’s wrist when no one is looking, drag her out of their booth and into the bathroom, push her against the cubicle door and kiss her until her head is spinning.

They still don’t talk about it.

A few weeks later, everyone goes along to Vivid, the university’s on-campus coffee shop, to support Heejin and Jiwoo who are performing at an open mic night the café is hosting. Heejin provides the music with her guitar and Jiwoo provides the vocals and they do three charming acoustic covers of popular idol songs and two original songs that Jiwoo composed herself. Afterwards, Hyunjin suggests going for barbecue to celebrate the standing ovation Heejin and Jiwoo got, but Jinsoul declines on the basis that her and Jungeun already have plans for a movie night. Plans that Jungeun had absolutely no idea about, but she goes along with it out of curiosity and lets Jinsoul take her home, watches as she puts on Train To Busan, turns to Jungeun and says _sorry, I just wanted to be alone with you,_ and then kisses her.

They get interrupted an hour later, just as Jungeun is trying to pluck up the courage to move her hand under Jinsoul’s shirt, when Sooyoung and Jiwoo come home. They spring apart like they’ve been burned at the sound of the front door banging open, but neither Sooyoung nor Jiwoo seem to notice Jungeun’s mussed hair or Jinsoul’s flushed cheeks when they appear in the living room.

“Oh hey, I love this movie,” Jiwoo says happily, completely oblivious, pushing Jungeun over and settling down next to her on the sofa. Sooyoung flops down next to her, complaining that she ate too fast as she swings her legs up to lie over all three of them. Jungeun tries, and mostly fails, to focus on the movie instead of how, if she glances to her left, she can see how pink and swollen Jinsoul’s lips are.

They still don’t talk about it.

Which is fine.

It’s just a thing they do now, a new facet of their friendship. It’s fine. Jungeun is _fine._ Like Jinsoul said the first time, it’s not a big deal.

She just wishes she knew what was going on in Jinsoul’s head sometimes.

Any other time, if something is bothering her then Jungeun will just go straight to the source and insist on talking things out until they’re resolved. She doesn’t like uncertainty, not knowing where she stands with someone. But with something like this, this unfamiliar territory that Jungeun has no real clue how to navigate, the unknown is almost a preferable option than actually having to acknowledge all the lines that have been crossed.

It’s certainly the safer option, at least where her heart is concerned.

Jinsoul isn’t cruel, she’s not the type to toy with people’s feelings or use someone just to sate her own curiosity, but the thing is, even with all the kissing, Jungeun is still inclined to believe that Jinsoul is straight.

She could be bisexual, sure, but she could also be experimenting. She’s the only straight girl in a large group of gay girls, so Jungeun wouldn’t fault her for being somewhat curious. Or she could just be bored and in the mood to make out with someone, and Jungeun just happens to be the nearest warm body. The fact that she is not of the male gender is irrelevant.

After all, Jinsoul’s only ever dated guys, only ever hooked up with guys. Heesu for the majority of her senior year of high school, a string of dates and hook-ups and ‘casual things’ her first year of university, and then Seokmin during her sophomore year.

(Jungeun had dated Seungyeon, a friend of one of her coworkers, for a few months at the same time, during her freshman year. It’s the only time both she and Jinsoul have been in relationships at the same time, and for those brief three months, Jungeun almost managed to convince herself that she’d finally gotten over Jinsoul. Even with the amount of double dates Jinsoul insisted on.

Until Seungyeon had dumped her with the explanation that Jungeun was _always looking at her the way you should be looking at me._

The worst part was Seungyeon didn’t even seem angry. She just sounded defeated, like she knew the entire time they were together that Jungeun’s heart was never going to truly belong to her, and she saw this coming long before Jungeun ever did.

Maybe in another life Jungeun could have loved Seungyeon the way she deserved. But in this one, she’s in love with Jinsoul.

Jinsoul and Seokmin had broken up a month or so later. Jinsoul gave the vague excuse that they just _grew apart,_ but Jungeun’s still not entirely sure she was telling the truth.)

When Jungeun came out to Jinsoul when she was seventeen, Jinsoul had just given her a megawatt smile that made her innocent unsuspecting heart race and said _you’re my best friend, I love you no matter what._

And that was it.

She’d never said anything about herself. Never confided in Jungeun that she felt the same way about girls as she does boys, never dated a girl, never said anything about being attracted to a girl beyond innocent _you look so pretty!_ statements to hype Jungeun or one of the others up. Never given any indication that she was anything other than completely straight.

Until she’d pushed Jungeun down onto her bed and asked if she could kiss her, that is.

  
  


**THEN.**

Time passes. Jungeun starts her final year of middle school while Jinsoul goes off to high school, and she has to get used to not having Jinsoul around at lunch or when they’re walking to and from school.

It’s not like Jungeun isn’t expecting Jinsoul to make new friends once they’re spending all day apart, but it still catches her a little off-guard when she arrives at Jinsoul’s on a Friday night in April, Heejin and Jiwoo in tow, for their weekly movie night, to find a surprise guest already sitting on Jinsoul’s sofa — in _Jungeun’s_ corner spot — scrolling through Netflix.

The newcomer’s name is Haseul. She and Jinsoul share a few different classes, and they’re both new additions to the high school’s cheerleading team. Heejin and Jiwoo take to her immediately, and Jungeun hates how weird and stupid and _jealous_ she feels when it’s Haseul that Jinsoul sits next to while they watch some gruesome zombie apocalypse movie that Heejin picked, when it’s Haseul’s shoulder that Jinsoul hides in when someone on screen gets graphically eaten.

God, they’re fifteen, not five. She thought she had grown out of this childish need to keep Jinsoul all to herself.

Apparently not.

Haseul hasn’t even done anything wrong, Jungeun rationalises with herself. She's nice, and funny, and does her best to try and get to know all three of them, including Jungeun, even when all Jungeun offers in response is clipped short sentences. All Haseul did was befriend Jinsoul, and Jungeun can’t exactly blame her for that. She’s well aware of the power of Jinsoul’s gravity.

“Hey, you were really quiet today. Is everything okay?” Jinsoul murmurs later that night, when they’re curled up together in bed.

The green-eyed monster in Jungeun’s chest had been soothed a little when Haseul had left earlier with Jiwoo and Heejin. It’s comforting to know that even with her the option of new, cooler, older friends presented to her, their Friday night sleepovers are still just for the two of them.

“It’s nothing,” Jungeun replies, because it’s easier than explaining the irrational jealousy that’s been simmering under her skin all evening, all because Jinsoul made a new friend. “I was just tired.”

“It didn’t seem like nothing,” Jinsoul says, shuffling closer. Their knees bump together under the blanket. “Does it have anything to do with Haseul? Did you not like her?”

“No, Haseul seems nice.” And then, because Jungeun’s an idiot and her defenses are always weakened around Jinsoul, she ends up blurting out, “I’m glad you found a new best friend.”

It’s silent for a few moments, and Jungeun keeps her eyes squeezed shut, not wanting to see Jinsoul’s expression in the dim light of her bedroom. Jinsoul breaks the quiet with a soft chuckle. “You’re so dumb, Jungie.”

“Excuse me?” Jungeun objects, eyes opening immediately to glare at Jinsoul. The moonlight coming in through the window is providing enough light for Jungeun to see the fond smile on Jinsoul’s face, and something flutters in Jungeun’s chest when she realises how close they are.

“I haven’t found a new best friend. Why would I want one when I already have you?” Jinsoul’s hand comes out, groping about in the darkness between them until she finds Jungeun’s hand so she can link their pinkies together. “Haseul’s great, but she’s not you. You’re still my best friend.”

“You promise?” Jungeun asks, hating how small her voice sounds. “You’re not going to leave me for her?”

Jungeun hadn’t even realised how deep her insecurities ran until this exact moment when they come spilling out of her before she can stop them. Haseul is older, friendly and outgoing, the exact opposite of Jungeun. Jungeun wouldn’t really blame Jinsoul for wanting to upgrade her boring, grumpy childhood friend to a newer, shinier version.

“I promise,” Jinsoul replies, squeezing Jungeun’s pinky and immediately chasing away all the insecure thoughts lurking at the edge of Jungeun’s mind. “You’ll always be my best friend.”

Eventually, Jungeun begrudgingly admits that Haseul isn’t actually the evil older girl swooping in to steal Jungeun’s best friend away from her. She’s sweet and funny and as she starts to become a more permanent fifth fixture at their movie nights, Jungeun begins to view her as _her_ friend as well, instead of just Jinsoul’s friend.

Jungeun has enough loud people in her life already, and Haseul seems to be someone who can appreciate a bit of peace and quiet, which Jungeun likes. Although her little sister Yeojin, who befriends Chaewon quite quickly and becomes a regular guest at the Jung household, is even louder than Jiwoo and Jinsoul put together, which is a little terrifying.

Plus, it helps to finally have someone on her side when the endless argument of _does pineapple belong on pizza_ gets brought up for the billionth time.

  
  


**NOW.**

Haseul, who Jungeun had always been under the impression was the _other_ straight girl amongst their friend group, returns to Korea for her birthday weekend in August with a girlfriend in tow.

They make plans to meet up and get dinner when Haseul announces in the _#cheongjuicy_ group chat that she’ll be visiting Seoul for a few days before going back to Cheongju to see Yeojin and her parents, and that everybody had better free up their schedules for her.

Oh, and that she has a surprise for everyone. With a winky face at the end.

(Jinsoul immediately starts a separate group chat where everybody can place their bets on what the surprise is. Jungeun votes for _piercing in an inappropriate place,_ Heejin picks _tramp stamp but like one of the REALLY trashy ones,_ Jiwoo guesses _husband,_ and Jinsoul goes for _drastic haircut._ )

They settle on a restaurant and a time after enough arguing that Jungeun just mutes the chat for a while and asks Jinsoul to tell her when and where to show up. Jiwoo brings Sooyoung, Heejin brings Hyunjin, and Haseul shows up with _Kahei._

(Nobody in Jinsoul’s betting pool guessed _girlfriend._ )

Kahei seems a little overwhelmed by the (loud) responses to her introduction as Haseul’s _girlfriend,_ so Haseul does most of the talking, telling the adorable story of how she and Kahei got together after meeting at a mutual friend’s birthday party.

Haseul reaches out to take Kahei’s hand once she’s concluded the entire timeline of their relationship with the story of their first kiss — at the top of a ferris wheel when Kahei took her to a fairground in downtown Hong Kong for their second date; Jiwoo almost starts crying — and they exchange sickeningly sweet lovestruck smiles.

Jungeun glances at the few inches of space separating her hand on the table from Jinsoul’s next to her, and wonders if she’ll ever be able to look at anybody other than Jinsoul the way Haseul is looking at Kahei. She wonders if Jinsoul will ever look at her like that.

Karaoke is the next stop after dinner.

They hire a room that can fit all eight of them, order a round of drinks, dim the lights, and immediately start queueing up songs.

Naturally, it turns into a contest after about the second song. Heejin does a flawless cover of a song by some Japanese idol band Jungeun’s never heard of, Haseul sings the newest Ariana Grande song in fluent English, and then Sooyoung starts rapping over an English hip-hop song in what Jungeun thinks is French.

Repeating _je m’appelle Sooyoung, Yves Saint Laurent, bitch_ over and over makes Jungeun dubious as to whether those are the actual lyrics or just a Ha Sooyoung Original, but it’s hilarious enough that they unanimously crown her the winner.

Thankfully things are a little less competitive once Sooyoung stops gloating, although that might have something to do with the several bottles of soju Haseul and Jinsoul bring back from their trip to the bar. Jiwoo quizzes everyone on their favourite Girls Generation song and promptly adds all of them to the queue. Haseul and Kahei duet on a particularly soppy ballad about endless love and soulmates that has everyone pretending to gag while discreetly wiping at their eyes. Jinsoul, Heejin, Haseul and Kahei end up embroiled in a particularly enthusiastic duet-off of Disney songs. Sooyoung puts on the Wonder Girls and enlists Jungeun, Jiwoo, Jinsoul and Hyunjin as her backup dancers for their new cover band that Heejin dubs the Average Girls.

After stumbling through the choreography for Tell Me, Jungeun escapes back to the sofa and sinks down onto it to catch her breath and give her feet a break from dancing. She’s checking her phone and replying to a text from Ryujin when she feels someone sits down next to her. Jungeun glances up from the screen, momentarily pausing her graphic description of how she’ll dismember Ryujin if she even thinks about touching Jungeun’s tub of ice cream in the freezer, and even in the low light Jinsoul’s eyes are bright.

“Hey,” Jinsoul says, leaning close to be heard over the noise from the others. “Having fun?”

Jungeun looks over at the current owners of the microphones; Heejin is beatboxing over a Sistar song while Hyunjin is aggressively meowing along to the beat. Sooyoung is in between them, making up choreography as she goes along, which mostly consists of a lot of slut dropping and some ballet pirouettes. Jiwoo is recording the entire thing to immortalise it on her Instagram story.

“The soundtrack could be a little better,” Jungeun says, and Jinsoul laughs softly.

Jinsoul reaches for the bottle of grape soju, pouring out two shots and offering one to Jungeun. Jungeun takes it, taps her glass against Jinsoul’s and tosses the shot back. Grape isn’t her favourite flavour, but at least it’s not peach, Jinsoul’s preferred flavour, which she now can’t help but associate with kissing Jinsoul. Jungeun pretends not to watch Jinsoul lick her lips and tries not to think about kissing her until all the grape flavour is gone and all she can taste is Jinsoul.

On the sofa between them, Jungeun feels Jinsoul’s hand bump against her own, softly and unsure. _Are we okay?_ Abruptly, Jungeun is hit with a wave of guilt over how she’s been keeping Jinsoul at a distance. There has been a bit of avoidance, on Jungeun’s part, since the night of Heejin and Jiwoo’s open mic performance. It’s for her own good, yes — she can already feel herself started to get addicted to Jinsoul’s mouth, and it’s only a matter of time before Jinsoul announces that she’s found a new boyfriend and shatters the idyllic illusion Jungeun is currently in — but it’s not like she’s given Jinsoul any explanation for the sudden cold shoulder she’s been receiving.

Jungeun moves her hand to cover Jinsoul’s, linking their fingers together and squeezing gently. _We’re okay._ Neither of them say anything for the rest of the song — although calling it anything remotely close to music is a bit of an insult — even when Haseul joins in, rapping over Heejin and Hyunjin’s background noise while Kahei looks like she’s wondering how fast she can get a flight back to Hong Kong.

Jinsoul’s thumb is soft and incredibly distracting where it brushes over Jungeun’s skin, and she can barely concentrate on watching the disaster unfolding in front of her.

The song fades out, replaced with an EXO song that Jungeun vaguely recognises. Sooyoung turns to where Jungeun and Jinsoul are still tucked away in the corner, her gaze briefly flickering down to their entwined hands, before she hauls Jinsoul up, chattering away about how the two of them have been working on choreography for the dance team to this song.

Her hand is still warm from Jinsoul's touch.

/

When their time is up and they have to leave after a truly moving group performance of Genie, it’s late enough that it’s starting to get dark. Everyone slowly starts to split off into smaller groups to go home, citing a bunch of different excuses. Haseul and Kahei want to be up early the next morning to spend the day exploring Seoul like a pair of tourists, Heejin has lunch plans with some of her university friends and Hyunjin has work. Sooyoung and Jiwoo are staying out for a bit, leaving to meet up with some other friends at a dance club in Gangnam.

And then it’s just the two of them left.

“I can’t believe you’re one of the last ones standing,” Jinsoul chuckles when Sooyoung and Jiwoo have hugged them goodbye and disappeared into the distance. “Kim Jungeun, the party animal, who would have thought? Where are we going now? Sure you don’t want to go catch up with Sooyoung and Jiwoo?”

As if on cue, Jungeun yawns. “I’m going home. It’s an hour past my bedtime, you know.”

“Come on, grandma,” Jinsoul laughs, bumping her shoulder against Jungeun’s. “I’ll walk you home.”

It’s a nice night and the karaoke bar isn’t too far from Jungeun’s neighbourhood, so they start walking the short distance back. Jungeun’s hand twitches with the urge to reach out and take Jinsoul’s, and she has to tuck her hands into her jacket pocket to stop herself.

Usually, Jinsoul is the one filling any silences with inane chatter, but she’s strangely quiet as they move away from the busy streets onto one of the pedestrian paths running alongside the Han River, so Jungeun carries most of the conversation, rambling away about whatever pops into her head while Jinsoul interjects every now and then. There’s obviously something on her mind, but Jungeun knows better than to push her; she’ll talk about whatever’s bothering her when she’s ready.

Five minutes, apparently, is all the time Jinsoul needs. “Did you know about Kahei?”

Jungeun tries not to immediately jump to conclusions. There’s a multitude of reasons Jinsoul could be asking. Maybe she didn’t like Kahei. Maybe she’s upset Haseul never told her about Kahei. Maybe she’s upset Haseul never told her that she apparently isn’t straight. Maybe—

“No, I don’t think anybody knew,” Jungeun says before her mind can stray down a certain path. “She never said anything to me, and Jiwoo and Heejin seemed genuinely surprised and you know neither of them are the best actresses.”

Jinsoul hums in agreement, and Jungeun sneaks a glance at her. Jinsoul isn’t looking at her. She’s staring out over the Han River, the lights of Seoul’s skyscrapers reflecting off the dark water, and Jungeun can’t decipher the look on her face. Not for the first time, Jungeun wishes she knew what Jinsoul was thinking. She used to pride herself on knowing her best friend like the back of her hand, but lately she’s starting to feel like she knows less and less.

“I asked Haseul about her, when we were getting drinks,” Jinsoul continues, unprompted. “I mean, she’s only dated guys up until now, so what made Kahei so different?”

“What did she say?”

“That she’d always felt a kind of attraction towards girls, but she’d always brushed it off as just wanting to be their friend or being mildly envious about how pretty they were,” Jinsoul says. “She didn’t even really notice it until she and Jungwoo broke up after she moved to Hong Kong, and then she met Kahei and felt the same kind of attraction, except this time it was a lot stronger. And she couldn’t figure out what made Kahei so different until she realised that if this were a guy she couldn’t stop thinking about, then she wouldn’t have thought twice about calling it what it was. A crush. So once she realised, she went and asked Kahei out. Just like that. Brave, huh?”

There’s a clear opportunity here, an easy way to nudge the conversation towards Jinsoul’s own increasingly blurry sexuality. _What about you, have you ever thought about girls that way?_ But Jungeun doesn’t want to scare Jinsoul off, and she’s also unsure if she even wants to know the answer to her questions. Which option would be worse, Jinsoul concluding that she’s straight after all, or Jinsoul realising that she is into girls, just not Jungeun?

“Did you always know?” Jinsoul asks curiously, and Jungeun doesn’t have to ask her to clarify what she’s talking about.

“Pretty much,” Jungeun nods. “You and Haseul and Heejin would go on and on about Changmin or Wooseok or whoever and I just did not see it. Then Heejin mentioned how pretty Chou Tzuyu was one day and I almost exploded trying to hold in everything I wanted to say.”

Jinsoul raises an eyebrow. “Tzuyu? She was your gay awakening?”

“Son Chaeyoung’s Dramatic Haircut of Freshman Year was also quite eye-opening,” Jungeun says, deciding not to mention that the majority of her gay awakening was triggered by a very memorable kiss in a closet at Park Chaeyoung’s Halloween party with a certain Jung Jinsoul. “Why do you sound so unimpressed? I did date Tzuyu for most of senior year, remember?”

“Yes, I remember.” Jinsoul rolls her eyes. “She’s just... she’s like, too pretty? Like, weren’t you scared of how pretty she is? I had to correct her posture one time during cheer practice and she looked at me like she was trying to make my head explode with her telekinetic powers.”

“Oh, yeah she was kinda terrifying before I go to know her.” Jungeun pauses for dramatic effect. “Really it just made her hotter.”

Jinsoul groans, Jungeun laughs, and this is easier, a return to normal. It’s more familiar than the strange conversation earlier, when a tiny hopeful part of Jungeun couldn’t help but wonder if Jinsoul was really talking about Haseul.

They stop walking once they reach Jungeun’s building. Jinsoul dawdles awkwardly next to her while Jungeun fishes through her bag for her keys, like she isn’t sure whether to just invite herself up like she usually does or make an excuse about needing to leave. Jungeun feels that pang of guilt again, stronger this time, when she looks up to meet Jinsoul’s unsure smile.

In the fading orange light of the sunset, Jinsoul is distractingly pretty, and Jungeun forgets about that all-important space she’s been trying to put between them.

The street is empty, nobody else around.

(Really, there’s never been anybody else but Jinsoul.)

It’d be so easy, Jungeun thinks, to close the distance between them and kiss Jinsoul. To kiss her in some kind of desperate attempt to figure out if she feels all of this too — the rapid pulse, the increased heartbeat, the way Jungeun can’t focus on anybody else when Jinsoul is in the room — or if Jungeun’s feelings are completely one-sided, and anything Jinsoul has ever done that could be interpreted as reciprocation is just something Jungeun has made up in her head.

Jungeun opens her mouth, to say _what_ she isn’t sure, when the front door of her building bangs open. It’s just one of Jungeun’s neighbours, a nice older woman who always says hello whenever she sees Jungeun, but the moment is gone all the same.

“Do you want to come up for a bit?” Jungeun asks instead of whatever was about to come out of her mouth. It’s probably better that way. “Ryujin bought more of that hot chocolate you like.”

Jinsoul nods, giving her a soft smile. “Sure.”

/

(In Jungeun’s living room, the television is still on, but both Ryujin and Yeji have fallen asleep, Ryujin sitting up with her feet on the coffee table and Yeji taking up the entire sofa with her head in Ryujin’s lap.

Jinsoul looks at them for a few moments. “Do you think they’ll ever figure it out?”

“I hope so,” Jungeun replies, remembering the distraught look on Yeji’s face outside a club in Itaewon a few months ago.

After all, surely one of them deserves to be loved back.)

/

An hour later, they’re both sprawled out on Jungeun’s bed, the latest episode of some documentary about sea life playing on Jungeun’s laptop.

Jungeun is very tired — she hadn’t been exaggerating about it being past her bedtime — but when the documentary had popped up under _recommended for you_ on Netflix because Jinsoul is a cheapskate who just uses Jungeun’s account instead of paying for her own and so half of Jungeun’s recommendations are weird horror animes or wildlife documentaries, she had been helpless to say no to Jinsoul’s pout.

So here she is, using her drowsiness as an excuse to cuddle into Jinsoul’s side while she concentrates half on the documentary informing her on the migratory patterns of blue whales and half on actually staying awake, although it’s proving quite difficult when Jinsoul’s shoulder makes such a good pillow.

Jinsoul’s steady breathing and the soothing drone of the commentator is slowly lulling Jungeun to sleep, and surrounded by the warmth of Jinsoul’s body and the familiar scent of her perfume, Jungeun can almost pretend she gets to have this every day.

Except then Jinsoul has the audacity to move, dislodging Jungeun from her comfortable position when she sits up, excited about some brightly coloured fish on the screen. Jungeun lifts her head to sleepily glare at the interruption, but it loses most of its impact when she takes in how Jinsoul’s face has lit up at a blue fish wiggling its fins around. She’s bare-faced, her hair thrown into a messy ponytail with a few stray strands of black framing her face, and she looks so soft and pretty under the dim light of the laptop screen and the fairy lights strung above Jungeun’s bed that Jungeun’s heart stops.

Jinsoul turns to look at her, and Jungeun’s heart restarts in double time. They’re close enough that Jinsoul’s nose bumps against Jungeun’s, and Jinsoul’s eyes are dark when Jungeun meets her gaze.

It only takes a second before Jungeun is leaning in.

They meet each other halfway, Jinsoul scooting down and rolling onto her side at the same moment Jungeun reaches for Jinsoul’s waist to pull her closer. There’s the familiar stutter in Jungeun’s heartbeat when their lips meet, and the way Jinsoul sighs against her mouth, like she’s been wanting this just as much as Jungeun has, spurs Jungeun into kissing her more insistently.

The documentary forgotten, they gradually adjust so Jungeun is flat on her back and Jinsoul is hovering over her, their legs tangled together underneath the sheets. Jinsoul’s wearing her dumb lemon printed shorts that she leaves at Jungeun’s sometimes despite Jungeun’s threats to burn them or throw them out, and Jungeun almost has a heart attack when she feels the heat of Jinsoul’s bare skin against her own.

Jungeun curls her hands around the back of Jinsoul’s neck, tangling her fingers in Jinsoul’s hair, and tries not to groan when Jinsoul lowers herself more, their bodies slotting together like puzzle pieces.

The kiss is slow and unhurried and lazy, until it _isn’t._ Until Jungeun parts her lips and Jinsoul licks into her mouth hotly, and then it’s anything but slow. Jinsoul shifts on top of Jungeun, tilts her head to kiss her deeper, and Jungeun’s mind goes fuzzy and unfocused from Jinsoul’s tongue in her mouth and Jinsoul’s bare skin sliding against hers. It’s so good, and God, Jungeun feels like she could drown in it.

Abruptly, Jinsoul breaks the kiss, and Jungeun’s breath hitches when Jinsoul moves to dust kisses along her jaw instead.

“This okay?” Jinsoul murmurs, pausing when she reaches Jungeun’s ear.

Her breath is warm against Jungeun’s already overheated skin, her lips brushing against the flushed shell of her ear. They’ve never talked _during_ before, and Jungeun isn’t prepared for how Jinsoul’s low voice affects her. Heat trickles down her spine and she tries not to whimper. 

“Yeah,” Jungeun breathes, tilting her head back to give Jinsoul more room. “It’s okay.”

Jinsoul kisses the spot just under Jungeun’s ear that always makes her shiver, before trailing kisses down her throat. She pauses every now and then to suck gently at the skin, and Jungeun does her best to control her unsteady breathing.

Jungeun runs her hands down Jinsoul’s back, fisting her hands in the fabric of Jinsoul’s tshirt to try and pull her closer, closer, closer. Jinsoul’s mouth is on her collarbone now, the light scrape of teeth against her skin, and Jungeun bites back a whine. Somehow, Jinsoul knows exactly what she likes, and it’s slowly turning her to liquid, melting underneath Jinsoul’s lips and teeth and tongue on her throat.

Above her, Jinsoul shifts again, and Jungeun almost loses her mind when Jinsoul very subtly grinds her hips down. She feels rather than hears Jinsoul’s quiet exhale of breath against her skin, and she moves her hands back up to Jinsoul’s hair, using it as leverage to tug Jinsoul back to her mouth.

Jinsoul comes willingly, kissing Jungeun slow and deep and wet, until the only thing Jungeun is aware of is Jinsoul’s tongue sliding against her own, Jinsoul’s weight pressing down on her, Jinsoul’s hand settling on her waist. Jungeun feels like she’s burning up, the heat simmering low in her stomach beginning to spread outwards through her whole body. The only sound in the dark bedroom is their lips moving together, over and over, and Jungeun’s quiet gasps.

Distantly, she’s aware that they should probably stop. This is dangerously close to crossing certain lines that need to remain firmly uncrossed for the sake of both Jungeun’s fragile sanity and her equally fragile heart. They’re not even alone in the apartment; Ryujin and Yeji are on the other side of the bedroom wall, and Jiwoo could get home at any minute and come barging in with her usual blatant disregard for closed doors.

Jinsoul’s hand skims over her hip, her fingertips edging just under the hem of Jungeun’s shirt to brush against the bare skin of her waist. A pulse of _heat,_ hot and scorching, flashes through her when Jinsoul’s teeth tug gently on her bottom lip. The entire time, Jinsoul’s hips have kept up their slow, excruciating grind against Jungeun’s thigh that’s making Jungeun’s head slowly cloud over.

It’s dizzying. Exhilarating. It’s too much and not enough at the same time.

Jungeun can’t think clearly when Jinsoul’s palm flattens against her hip, her fingers squeezing slightly. She wants Jinsoul’s hands all over her, she wants Jinsoul to move her kisses lower and lower, she wants—

“Jungie,” Jinsoul mumbles against her lips, her voice shockingly low. Before this exact moment, Jungeun was sure she knew every cadence of Jinsoul’s voice — from the rare occasions when her voice raises in anger to the slow slur when she’s half asleep — but _this,_ this raspy, almost pleading tone. This is new. “Can I—”

“Yes.” Jungeun whimpers. “Please.” She doesn’t know what Jinsoul wants, doesn’t even know what she’s asking for, but it doesn’t matter because before she can continue they’re interrupted by the sound of the apartment door slamming.

Jungeun tenses unconsciously, Jinsoul freezes on top of her, and just like that, the moment is over.

Jinsoul rolls off Jungeun and onto her back. Jungeun doesn’t know whether it was intentional or not, but they’re not touching anymore. They’re both quiet for a few moments, no sound in the room other than slightly uneven breathing.

After gathering enough courage, Jungeun glances at Jinsoul, takes in her disheveled appearance; swollen lips, flushed cheeks, pupils blown wide, hair a mess from Jungeun’s hands tangling in it. It’s the hottest thing Jungeun’s ever seen.

Jinsoul meets her gaze, but looks away quickly, staring up at the ceiling instead.

“Um.” Jinsoul clears her throat. “It’s late.” Her voice is still low. “We should probably sleep now. You did say you were tired, didn’t you?”

Jungeun has no idea how she’s supposed to get to sleep now, when her body is still thrumming, still aching, and she can hear the echoes of Jinsoul’s voice whispering her name in her head.

Jungeun closes her laptop, ignoring Netflix accusingly asking her if she’s still watching, and leans over the side of the bed to put it on the floor. Without the glow from the screen, Jungeun’s room is pitch black. She can hear Jinsoul’s breathing, feel her shifting around as she gets comfortable. Jungeun resists the urge to reach out and take her hand.

“Night, Jungeun,” Jinsoul murmurs.

Jungeun squeezes her eyes shut. “Goodnight.”

Despite the space between them, in the morning Jungeun knows she’ll wake up wrapped up in Jinsoul anyway. And God, isn’t that just the perfect metaphor for their entire friendship; whether it's a conscious decision or not, Jungeun will always find herself gravitating towards Jinsoul and falling into her orbit.

  
  


**THEN.**

Jungeun doesn’t actually realise how high up in the high school hierarchy Jinsoul is until over halfway through her first year of high school, when Jinsoul — and by proxy Jungeun — gets invited to a Halloween party. And not just any Halloween party, but Park Chaeyoung’s Halloween party.

Park Chaeyoung is head cheerleader, the crowd parts like the Red Sea whenever she walks down the hall, and she’s known for throwing notoriously chaotic parties that are difficult to score an invite to. Her annual Halloween party is apparently a very important event on the high school calendar, judging by the way Jinsoul and Haseul immediately start brainstorming costume ideas during their study period in the library. Once they’re done freaking out over actually being invited in the first place, that is.

Jungeun doesn’t know enough about party etiquette to know if Jinsoul inviting her is even allowed. Chaeyoung certainly hasn’t invited her personally; Jungeun’s never even spoken to her directly despite being somewhat jock-adjacent due to her position on the school’s swim team, not because Chaeyoung is the kind of scary stock cheerleader out of a 90s movie — although she’s usually flanked by Jennie and Jisoo, who do scare Jungeun a little — but simply because she’s never had any reason to.

“Are you allowed to just invite other people to her party?” Jungeun asks, watching as Jinsoul tries to put Naruto under the acceptable costumes column of the (long) list of costumes her and Haseul are poring over. 

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Jinsoul assures her, pouting when Haseul immediately strikes it out and writes _literally any anime character_ under the unacceptable costumes column. “She said I could bring my grumpy friend and my loud friend.”

“I am not grumpy,” Jungeun grumbles, while Jiwoo shouts, “I’m not that loud!” loudly enough that the librarian promptly asks her to leave.

So despite her neutral stance on Chaeyoung herself and mild fear for her two right-hand women, Jungeun finds herself being talked into attending her first high school party. She makes up some excuse to her parents about going to Jinsoul’s for a horror movie night, which her mother clearly does not believe a word of, but she ruffles Jungeun’s hair regardless and tells her not to do anything that will get her grounded when she drops Jungeun off at Jinsoul’s to get ready.

Jungeun’s wearing a tight red top that she stole from her sister, black shorts, her favourite black boots, with a red cape and a pair of devil horns perched on her head.

Haseul’s a vampire, dressed in all black complete with frighteningly realistic puncture marks on her neck, custom made vampire fangs from the Halloween store fitted over her teeth and splatters of blood across her face.

Jinsoul has a pair of cat ears on her head and whiskers drawn on her face, and she’s wearing tight black jeans and a black crop top. There’s also a yellow crescent moon on her forehead, drawn on at the last minute while Haseul wasn’t paying attention to thwart the strict no anime rules.

Chaeyoung’s house (mansion? Estate? Castle?) is easily the biggest one Jungeun’s ever seen — the Parks are _loaded —_ and it’s already packed by the time Jungeun, Jinsoul and Haseul arrive. Soeun drops them off — Jungeun being the only one with the privilege of an older sibling who a) can drive, and b) is willing to taxi them around — and tells them to have fun.

“But like,” Soeun adds on. “Not too much fun that I have to leave my own party to come pull you out of a ditch somewhere. Which I’ll do if I have to, I just really don’t want to.”

“Love you too, unnie,” Jungeun says dryly, and Soeun flips her off.

The party’s already in full swing, music blasting from inside and people spilling outside into the garden and onto the pool deck, and Jungeun is a little overwhelmed when she follows Jinsoul and Haseul through the front door and is immediately hit with the vague scent of alcohol and the kind of heat caused by a hundred sweaty teenagers crammed into one house.

A few boys that Jungeun vaguely recognises as part of the jock clique usually seen hanging around Chaeyoung and the other senior cheerleaders look at Jinsoul in interest when they step inside the house, one of them waving shyly at her, and it’s a strange realisation. Jinsoul is attractive. To Jungeun, she’s always just been her goofy best friend, all long limbs and not enough coordination, but as they follow Haseul through the living room and then what appears to be a second living room in search of the kitchen, Jungeun realises she’s having trouble tearing her eyes away from the curves of Jinsoul’s hips under her jeans.

Both the counter and the island in Chaeyoung’s extravagant kitchen are covered with the largest selection of alcohol Jungeun has ever seen outside of the liquor aisle in a store, giving the guests plenty of options. However, Jungeun doesn’t particularly want Soeun’s vague threat of pulling her out of a ditch to come true, so she ignores the hard liquor and the soju and instead opts for one of the brightly coloured alcopops, a red one with a picture of a cherry on it, from one of the ice filled champagne buckets Chaeyoung is using as coolers.

Haseul takes a green one with a melon on it, Jinsoul picks up a blue one with a raspberry on it, and the three of them trek back into the packed living room to try and track down Jiwoo and Heejin.

Heejin is apparently fully dressed up as Kaonashi in a blatant disregard for Haseul’s rules, and Jiwoo, going for the exact other end of the Halloween costume spectrum, had announced in the chat she was going as a sexy Pikachu. When questioned in the group chat on what that looked like, she’d just responded _pikachu but sexy, duh_ and then sent a gif of Pikachu flipping someone off.

/

The party continues, and it’s not quite as terrifying as the rumour mill at school makes Chaeyoung’s parties sound.

They find Jiwoo and Heejin eventually, they dance, they drink some more, they mingle with the crowd, and Jungeun thinks _this isn’t so bad._ It’s actually quite fun.

And then a group begins to gather in one of the living rooms — the smaller, slightly less populated one.

It consists mostly of the cheerleaders, miscellaneous members of the football and swim teams, various other members of the school’s upper echelon that have the privilege of being on Park Chaeyoung’s exclusive guestlist.

Somehow, Jungeun finds herself being pulled into this group, into this shape vaguely resembling a circle that is starting to form around one of the mahogany coffee tables, upon which an empty bottle of peach soju is placed.

Now this might be Jungeun’s first high school party, but she isn’t dumb. She’s seen stupid teenage romcoms and television shows. She knows exactly what a group of mildly inebriated teenagers gathered around a bottle entails.

And so Jungeun’s inaugural game of spin the bottle begins.

Chaeyoung spins first, and in a cute twist of fate lands on her boyfriend Hyojung, the captain of the football team. Jennie spins and kisses Jisoo, and then Jisoo spins and kisses Jennie, and there’s clearly some tension there if the way they avoid eye contact after is any indication. Heejin lands on Jiwoo, which is hilarious enough as it is but made funnier by the fact Heejin refuses to take her mask off to kiss her. Jiwoo kisses Jeon Somin, the captain of the swim team, and yells _pika pika_ right after. Haseul lands on Jungwoo, the boy she’s had a huge crush on for months now and is subjected to a lot of nudging in the side and terrible winks courtesy of Jinsoul and Jungeun.

Boys kiss boys, boys kiss girls, girls kiss girls. Nothing particularly scandalous happens.

And then it’s Jinsoul’s turn.

Jinsoul reaches out, spins the soju bottle, and lands on Changwoo. Changwoo, who Jinsoul doesn’t particularly like in the first place due to him being kind of a dick, and who is easily the most inebriated person at this party, barely able to sit up straight to try and leer at Jinsoul.

“Absolutely not,” Jinsoul says, shaking her head at Chaeyoung. “I’m not kissing somebody that drunk, especially not when he was throwing up in one of those potted plants by the front door less than twenty minutes ago.”

“He did what?” Chaeyoung asks flatly, shooting Changwoo a frightening death glare that seems to sober him up immediately.

While Chaeyoung kicks Changwoo out and rushes to inspect the unfortunate plant pot, Jennie takes over as Bottle Master.

“You only get one forfeit, remember,” she says, nudging the bottle back towards Jinsoul. “And you know the rules: second attempt spin means seven minutes in heaven. Good luck.”

A ripple of excitement goes through the crowd gathered around the bottle when Jinsoul somewhat reluctantly reaches out for the bottle again. Clearly, there’s a few people here who are interested in getting her alone in a cramped cupboard. Jinsoul, on the other hand, has her lips pursed and eyebrows furrowed in a way that implies there are certain people she doesn’t want to be trapped in a closet with.

As the spinning gradually begins to slow, Jungeun wonders if there’s someone in the circle that Jinsoul _does_ want to land on.

Several agonisingly long seconds later, the bottle comes to a stop. And it’s pointing right at Jungeun.

Maybe if Jungeun had a bit more experience with parties, or large groups of people in general, she would know how to react to the loud cheer that goes up. As it is, Jungeun’s spent the first eight months of her high school career mostly irrelevant other than her status as a member of the swim team, and now an empty bottle of peach soju is about to thrust her straight into the spotlight by having her known as that girl who spent seven minutes in heaven with Jung Jinsoul.

At least five members of the football team look visibly disappointed. Jennie seems to find this the most amusing thing that’s happened all year. Jiwoo and Heejin are falling over themselves laughing. Haseul, at least, isn’t paying the slightest bit of attention, too preoccupied with flirting with Jungwoo.

Jungeun is frozen. Possibly having a heart attack.

Jinsoul’s stunned expression only lasts a few seconds before she’s laughing, scrambling to her feet and tugging Jungeun up with her. Jennie points the two of them in the direction of a small utility cupboard just outside the living room, and in what feels like less than a millisecond, the door shuts behind them and plunges the tiny room into darkness.

For a mansion, the closet is incredibly small; there’s a stack of shoeboxes, a mop bucket and a vacuum cleaner taking up most of the room, leaving very little space for Jungeun and Jinsoul.

Abruptly, Jungeun is transported back a year and a half to a Thursday afternoon Jinsoul’s bedroom, to a time when Jinsoul shuffled close and cupped her jaw and asked if Jungeun was sure.

Jungeun’s not expecting anything to actually happen — they’ll most likely just spend the next seven minutes talking; Jinsoul’s probably been itching for an excuse to ramble about Sailor Moon since she drew that damn moon on her forehead — but still. She can’t help but feel a little high strung, locked in a cramped closet with a girl she’s already kissed, for a game of which the sole purpose is kissing.

It isn’t pitch black in the cupboard; there’s a bit of light from the hall trickling in through the spaces between the door and the floor, and it provides enough visibility that Jungeun can see the faint outline of Jinsoul leaning against the opposite wall, watching her carefully, silently.

“We don’t have to do anything,” Jungeun says when the strange quiet starts to get stifling.

In the dim light, Jungeun watches Jinsoul blink slowly, her head tilted to the side as if considering something, before she takes a step forward.

“Since when have you been one to break the rules?” Another step forward, and Jungeun takes a step back, and already her back is bumping against the wall. This cupboard really is tiny.

Jungeun stares at her, wide-eyed, and Jinsoul clears her throat. “Sorry. I’m uh— I’m kinda drunk right now.”

Jungeun pretends to believe her. Jinsoul might be a little tipsy, but she’s definitely sober enough to be aware of what she’s doing.

“Yeah. Me too,” Jungeun lies, getting stuck on the way Jinsoul wets her lips, inching ever closer in the dark of the closet. “And you know how I am about following the rules.”

“They’re going to think we did even if we don’t do anything,” Jinsoul says, her voice an octave higher than usual. “Besides, it’s just a game. It’s not real.”

“Right.”

 _It’s just a game,_ Jungeun repeats inside her head, _it’s not real._ Games, dares, drunk suggestions, spun bottles, _just this once._ They’re all excuses for friends to do things that friends don’t do, shouldn’t do. This just happens to be one of them.

In the dark, Jinsoul’s hand finds hers, her thumb brushing against Jungeun’s knuckles. “Are you sure?”

She’s so close that Jungeun can see the way Jinsoul is looking at her mouth, even with the minimal light seeping into the cupboard. Jungeun licks her lips unthinkingly, and she feels Jinsoul’s exhale of breath ghost against her. Her heart is beating so hard Jungeun is mildly concerned it’s about to burst out of her chest. The closet is tiny, it’s not like there would be anywhere for it to go other than to jump right into Jinsoul’s hands.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Jungeun says.

_It’s just a game. It’s not real._

Jinsoul kisses her.

It’s not the first time, but that innocent afternoon in Jinsoul’s bedroom was nothing like this. Jinsoul’s mouth crashes against Jungeun’s, needy and wanting as she pushes Jungeun backwards to trap her against the wall.

Jungeun is expecting it, wants it, but it catches her off-guard all the same, and she makes a little noise of surprise against Jinsoul’s lips. Jinsoul is kissing her, and Jungeun can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t do anything but try to keep up with the hungry pace Jinsoul immediately sets.

It’s clumsy and sticky and Jinsoul tastes like the sugary alcopops she’s been drinking and there’s a room full of drunk teenagers laughing and wolf whistling outside the door. It’s the least romantic setting in the world, but it still feels like someone’s drenched Jungeun’s heart in gasoline and tossed a lit match onto her.

Jungeun doesn’t even realise her hands have gravitated to Jinsoul’s waist until Jinsoul’s tongue brushes against her bottom lip, and Jungeun clenches her hands at the unexpected feeling. Her nails dig into the skin left bare from Jinsoul’s stupidly distracting crop top and the low noise Jinsoul makes into her mouth sends a shudder through Jungeun like a shockwave.

Jungeun did not sign up for this when she agreed to attend this party. How is she supposed to look Jinsoul in the eye ever again? How is she supposed to stumble out of this musty closet in less than five minutes and forget this ever happened? How is she supposed to pretend like she doesn’t know what Jinsoul’s lips taste like, what Jinsoul feels like crowding her against the wall, what Jinsoul sounds like gasping into the kiss when Jungeun gains a rush of courage and draws Jinsoul’s bottom lip between her own and sucks?

Jinsoul’s hands have migrated to the back of her neck, searing hot against the sweaty skin. They tangle in her hair, tugging and pulling her closer, and Jinsoul’s mouth is warm and pliant under Jungeun’s, her mouth scorching hot when it opens under Jungeun’s tongue.

It’s starting to dawn on her that this is how she’s always going to feel. Not about Jinsoul in particular, but about girls. Whatever that first kiss in Jinsoul’s bedroom ignited in her, it hasn’t gone away or morphed into interest for boys like she’d hoped. Instead, she remains firmly much more interested in sneaking glances at the cheerleaders while the others are busy talking about the boys on the football team. She’s tried to shove it down, she really has, but it doesn’t appear to be going anywhere.

She tries to picture it for a few seconds — Jinsoul’s hands being bigger and rougher where they’re cupping her face, Jinsoul’s lips being less soft and with the added tickle of facial hair, Jinsoul’s body being bigger, wider, more muscled where Jungeun’s hands are on her waist, Jinsoul smelling like woodsy aftershave instead of her sweet fruity perfume — and tries not to recoil.

_You’re still young, you’ll grow to like boys eventually. You just haven’t found the right one yet. You’re just a late bloomer._

Jungeun realises it then, in a claustrophobic hall closet while she’s being kissed by her best friend; she’s never going to find the right boy because there _is_ no right boy. There will — at some point, hopefully — be the right girl though.

(It’s just a game. It isn’t real.)

Jungeun doesn’t know how long they’ve been kissing for. Time passes differently in the strange dimension of a hall closet, apparently. Have they been kissing for seven minutes yet? Seventeen? An hour? Eventually, they’re going to have to stop, pull back and giggle about it, and then go back to normal, back to the real world once the door opens, but Jungeun—

God, Jungeun can barely think.

She doesn’t want this to end, how long have they been here, is somebody timing—

“Time’s up, lovebirds!” Chaeyoung yells from outside the door, apparently having returned from her excursion of removing Changwoo.

They break apart, staring wide-eyed at each other. Jinsoul’s lipstick is smudged, and Jungeun’s hair probably looks as ruffled as it feels.

Part of Jungeun wants to lean in and kiss her again. Part of her wants to run as far as she can in the opposite direction so she never has to face Jinsoul, or any of the people outside who will take one look at Jungeun and see it written all over her face, ever again.

She does neither. Instead, she clears her throat and laughs nervously. “Wow,” Jungeun says. “You don’t half-ass anything, do you?”

It’s the right thing to say, thankfully. The odd tension between them dispels almost immediately as Jinsoul laughs.

Jinsoul reaches for the door, both of them blinking to adjust to the light that spills in when it opens. Ignoring the loud wolf whistling that appears to be mostly coming from Jiwoo, Jungeun follows Jinsoul out, letting the door swing shut behind her. She links her arm with Jinsoul and tugs her towards the kitchen to get more drinks, quickening her pace like if she walks fast enough she can leave this realisation behind, locked up in the closet with the shoeboxes and the mop and the vacuum cleaner.

She knows she can’t keep running forever. Eventually it will catch up to her. But for now, she’s got a head start, so she’s got time. She can outrun it a little longer.

  
  


**NOW.**

After Haseul’s birthday, they don’t hook up for a while.

There was a moment, once, when they’d all gone home to Cheongju for Chuseok at the end of September, and they’d found themselves alone in the Jung’s kitchen getting more snacks while everyone else was still in the living room. A moment where it looked like Jinsoul was about to take Jungeun’s face in her hands, lean forward and kiss her right there under the dim kitchen lights, despite the fact both their families were just in the next room. Except then Chaewon came into the kitchen looking for a knife — a terrifying thought, really — and the moment was broken.

Apart from that, and apart from a few lunches with the others or grabbing coffee together when their schedules line up, Jungeun hasn’t really seen Jinsoul much.

Which isn’t unexpected; classes have started again, Jungeun has picked up a few extra shifts at the café so she has enough funds for all the upcoming birthday and Christmas presents she’s going to have to buy, and Jinsoul is busy with her own studies and dance team commitments, the latter already starting to put together their performances for the charity winter showcase in December, all proceeds from the ticket sales being donated to women’s shelters and LGBT associations based in Seoul.

Jungeun wonders sometimes if maybe it’s over. Wonders if Jinsoul’s concluded her little experiment, or if she’s found someone new to make out with when she’s bored, or if she — most likely — just doesn’t want Jungeun anymore.

But then she walks into Jinsoul and Sooyoung’s apartment, where everyone has congregated for the group get together for both Jiwoo and Heejin’s birthdays, because they’re the ones with the biggest living room and they’re the only ones who live within the delivery parameters of their favourite pizza place, and she catches sight of Jinsoul, sprawled out on the sofa next to Hyunjin, raking her eyes up and down Jungeun so slowly she feels her ears start to warm up.

It’s just a _relaxed kickback_ according to Jiwoo, with ninety thousand won worth of pizza, Sooyoung’s seemingly bottomless weed stash, and a few drinks, Heejin having already outlawed any hard liquor in the group chat a few days ago.

( **heekkie  
** please god can we NOT have a party

 **heekkie  
** i haven’t been able to look at vodka the same since that club ryujin took us to months ago

 **ryuddaeng  
** lightweight

 **heekkie  
** and proud of it, bitch)

“What?” Jungeun asks, once she’s settled in the armchair next to Jinsoul with a beer, feeling a little self-conscious under Jinsoul’s stare.

She’s not even that dressed up — Sooyoung had announced _cool I’m wearing sweatpants then_ in the group chat when Jiwoo and Heejin both confirmed they didn’t want to go out, which set the dress code for the evening — just wearing her favourite red sweater and a pair of cuffed comfortable jeans.

“Nothing,” Jinsoul says in a way that sounds like the furthest thing from nothing. “You look nice.”

It’s something Jungeun’s heard a thousand times before, Jinsoul hyping her up like any best friend would, but it feels a little different with Jinsoul’s eyes lingering on her exposed collarbones. It feels a little different now that she knows what it’s like to have Jinsoul’s mouth trailing over her skin.

Jinsoul gives her a little smirk, slouching down further on the sofa as she turns away from Jungeun to bicker with Hyunjin about something, and Jungeun tries not to think about how inviting her lap looks.

It’s the first time since Haseul’s birthday that they’ve actually all been free on the same night, so instead of stressing over Jinsoul and overanalysing every look Jinsoul sends her way, Jungeun lets herself relax and enjoy a night off with her friends.

(She’s been successfully ignoring the fact she’s in love with Jinsoul for this long now. What’s one more day?)

There’s the six of them, plus Ryujin and Yeji, and Joohyun and Seulgi, along with some of Jiwoo and Heejin’s friends from university that Jungeun vaguely knows in passing. It’s loud and slightly chaotic, as things usually are when they’re all together like this, the room filled with the hum of conversation, everyone talking over each other.

There’s some drama playing on the television that no one’s really paying attention to — Sooyoung only put it on in the first place for background noise, and because there’s apparently some impressive subtext between the two female leads — and everyone is more focused on chatting and catching up and fighting over the pizza.

Jungeun sends Haseul a Snapchat of her slice of Hawaiian, and Haseul replies instantly with a tongue emoji which Jungeun really hopes Kahei doesn’t see and get the wrong impression, which turns into Haseul FaceTiming Jungeun so she can say happy birthday to Jiwoo and Heejin. Jungeun’s phone immediately gets plucked out of her hand by Jiwoo to be passed around so everybody can scream hello at Haseul, who takes it all in stride with Kahei peeking over her shoulder and waving shyly.

Jungeun comes back into the living room after getting another drink, and fondly takes in the sight of everybody spread over Jinsoul and Sooyoung’s mismatched collection of sofas and beanbags and armchairs.

While she wouldn’t change her newer friends for the world, it kind of makes Jungeun strangely nostalgic for all the nights she spent as a teenager with Jinsoul, Jiwoo, Heejin and Haseul in Jinsoul’s bedroom, or Jiwoo’s basement, or Heejin’s back yard, or Haseul’s living room, complaining about homework and gossiping about crushes or watching anime. A time before Jungeun’s feelings bloomed into something unavoidable, and reminded her of their presence every time Jinsoul smiled at her.

Inevitably, Jungeun finds herself focusing on Jinsoul, always the first person she looks for in a crowd. Jinsoul has Jungeun’s phone, chattering animatedly with Haseul and Kahei about something while Hyunjin leans on her shoulder and occasionally interjects with her own comments. Jungeun forgets herself for a second, lets her gaze linger a little too long, a little too affectionately, and she catches the tail end of a curious look from Yeji, coming out of the kitchen behind her.

“How’s that hopeless cause working out for you then?” Yeji asks quietly, taking a sip of her beer.

For a single hysterical second, Jungeun considers telling Yeji everything.

_Funny story actually! She doesn’t know I’m in love with her but we have been making out pretty regularly, and I get closer to blurting out how I feel every time she kisses me! Oh, and she’s probably still straight!_

Jungeun’s thought about it, drafted out a hundred different ways to confide in someone, playing each one out in her head in every setting possible, and none of them seem like they would end up anything but disastrous. She isn’t aware of Jinsoul telling anyone — Sooyoung’s certainly never said anything to her — and since Jungeun can’t come up with a good way to confess to anybody without crying or possibly being judged, she just stays quiet and keeps it a secret.

“About as well as you’d imagine,” Jungeun says instead. “Yours?”

Across the room, Ryujin shrieks with laughter from one of the beanbags in front of the television as her character in Smash Bros goes flying off the screen thanks to a well-aimed shot from Heejin.

Yeji sighs. “About as well as you’d imagine.”

Jinsoul looks up from the phone, across the cacophony of the others cheering on either Ryujin or Heejin, to meet Jungeun’s gaze. Her pout at whatever Haseul is saying gives way to a soft smile, like the first rays of sunlight on a dark morning, and Jungeun’s nervous heartbeat echoes in her chest.

“Yeah, good luck with that, unnie,” Yeji says, tapping her beer bottle against Jungeun’s before going over to join Ryujin.

After Heejin decimates everybody in Smash Bros, they move onto Mario Kart, which quickly devolves into anarchy.

Sooyoung and Hyunjin are shrieking the most offensive things they can think of at each other as they battle it out for first place, Jiwoo and Heejin egging them both on respectively. Ryujin appears to be going around the circuit entirely in reverse, and she’s still ahead of Seulgi who is trailing behind in last place. Jinsoul, stuck in fifth place, has just acquired a blue shell, and Jungeun honestly thinks she might leave the room again when that happens.

She’s had enough beer to feel pleasantly buzzed, enough hits of the joints that Sooyoung sparked up earlier to feel lazy and relaxed enough to not really care about the lack of space between her and Jinsoul. No one’s really paying them any attention anyway, more focused on watching Sooyoung and Hyunjin throwing red shells and banana peels and increasingly creative insults at each other.

It’s not like anybody knows, after all. If any of their nosey friends have noticed a change in their dynamic, nobody has said anything to Jungeun, not even the more blunt of them (Heejin) or the one who would say something just to instigate chaos (Sooyoung) or the one most likely to notice Jungeun’s mini breakdowns every time she remembers she’s been semi-regularly making out with her best friend who she’s desperately in love with (Jiwoo).

Nobody knows about their little ‘arrangement’ and nobody except Yeji knows about Jungeun’s deeply buried feelings, so she stops overthinking and just lets herself cuddle into Jinsoul’s side, cheering her on when she lets that blue shell fly and it crashes into Sooyoung to send her spinning into fourth place.

/

(Hyunjin wins, after Sooyoung gets blasted by a blue shell again, this time from Yeji. She proceeds to get right in Sooyoung’s face to perform a gloating victory dance that involves a lot of middle fingers, and Jiwoo has to physically restrain Sooyoung from lunging at Hyunjin.

“You cheated, you fucking furry,” Sooyoung growls, struggling to escape Jiwoo’s surprisingly strong grip.

“I’m not a furry!”

“You barked at me, like, the second time we met,” Ryujin interjects, and the entire room dissolves into laughter at the pout on Hyunjin’s face.)

/

Everyone begins filtering out when it starts to get late, until there’s only six of them left; Jungeun, Jinsoul, Jiwoo, Sooyoung, Ryujin and Yeji.

There’s a horror movie about vampires playing on the television that Jungeun’s pretty sure Jiwoo only picked so she had an excuse to sit in Sooyoung’s lap despite the entire sofa being free. Ryujin and Yeji are curled up on one of the armchairs, Ryujin watching the movie in fascination while Yeji hides in her shoulder. Jungeun and Jinsoul have migrated to one of the other armchairs, one that’s technically big enough to fit both of them, but Jungeun finds herself halfway onto Jinsoul’s lap anyway. Jinsoul’s the one to initiate it, looping her arms loosely around Jungeun’s waist so Jungeun can settle back against her front, so who is Jungeun to complain?

After one of the vampires eats her third victim in five minutes, and coincidentally Yeji yelps for the third time in five minutes at the resulting scream and spray of blood arcing across the screen, Ryujin and Yeji announce they’re leaving.

“Before I’m traumatised any further,” Yeji mutters as she puts her coat on, sending Jiwoo a dirty look where she’s snuggled into Sooyoung’s arms.

“Don’t worry,” Ryujin beams, slinging her arm around Yeji’s shoulders. “I’ll protect you from the big bad vampires.”

Yeji goes slightly pink, and Jungeun gives her a pointed look while Ryujin is preoccupied with saying goodbye to Jiwoo and Sooyoung. Yeji counters it with a raised eyebrow at her position tucked into Jinsoul’s side, and Jungeun looks away.

Jiwoo and Sooyoung stopped pretending to pay attention to the movie after the opening credits, and Jungeun isn’t really surprised when they disappear into Sooyoung’s bedroom when there’s still fifty minutes left of the movie, leaving Jungeun and Jinsoul alone in the living room.

Despite not being the biggest fan of horror, Jungeun’s actually gotten quite into the movie, although that might have something to do with the fact one of the vampire hunters is cute. Jinsoul, however, doesn’t seem quite as interested in the glaringly obvious tension between the hunter and one of the main vampires (also cute), and spends the majority of those fifty minutes annoying Jungeun and trying to get her attention.

“You’re so clingy,” Jungeun grumbles, finally relenting and looking at Jinsoul once the credits start rolling.

“I’m not clingy,” Jinsoul says, tightening her arms around Jungeun’s waist. “We meet each other halfway. You’re just as big a softie as I am.”

“I am not.”

“You are,” Jinsoul says in delight, poking at Jungeun’s cheek. “A clingy, grumpy little softie.”

“Go away.”

“A tiny little tsundere who cries at romcoms.”

“I don’t— that was _one time,_ ” Jungeun huffs, swatting at Jinsoul’s hand. “And I am not tiny.”

Jinsoul chuckles, mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like _the tiniest Moomin,_ and buries her face in Jungeun’s shoulder. Jungeun leans into the touch, feels Jinsoul breathing against her, the steady movement of her chest against Jungeun’s back. Jinsoul fits against her so seamlessly, so easily, and Jungeun closes her eyes for a moment.

“Jungie,” Jinsoul murmurs eventually, voice low and quiet, right her ear. Something about her voice is different this time, and it makes Jungeun open her eyes, turn her head to look at Jinsoul.

Even after all these years, the sight of Jinsoul’s face so close to her own makes Jungeun’s heart pound.

It’s dark in the living room; the lights are off and the glow from the television is limited with the black screen of the credits, but Jungeun would recognise Jinsoul even in the pitch black, every feature on her face as familiar to Jungeun as coming home.

The deep mocha brown of her eyes, her long, dark eyelashes. The slope of her high cheekbones, the curve of her jaw. The little white scar between her eyebrows. Her soft (very soft) lips, one side of her mouth tugged up into the faintest of smirks, like Jinsoul can hear just how quick Jungeun’s heart is racing.

Reaching out, Jinsoul tucks a loose strand of Jungeun’s hair behind her ear, her fingers trailing down her cheek and along her jaw. It’s the lightest of touches, Jinsoul’s fingertips barely grazing Jungeun’s skin, but it ignites a raw hunger in her that’s impossible to ignore.

The air between them shifts, to something thicker and hotter.

Jungeun doesn’t know which one of them moves first — maybe Jinsoul tilts her head, maybe Jungeun leans in — but one moment they’re just staring at each other and the next moment there’s no space between them and they’re kissing.

One kiss becomes two. Two becomes three. Three becomes four.

Jinsoul’s tongue slides against her bottom lip slowly, and Jungeun parts her lips automatically, lets Jinsoul kiss her deeper and hotter.

Jinsoul’s arms around her waist turn into her hands grasping at Jungeun’s hips and hauling her forward until she’s twisted around to settle completely in Jinsoul’s lap, her knees either side of Jinsoul’s thighs. Jinsoul’s hands settle low on her hips, the part just between her waist and the top of her thighs, and Jungeun can feel the warmth of them even through the thick fabric of her sweater.

In the back of her mind, Jungeun remembers that they’re still in the living room, in full view of anybody who happens to walk in. It’s unlikely that Jiwoo and Sooyoung will resurface before noon, but still. The last remaining piece of Jungeun’s common sense manages to cut through the haze in her brain and reminds her that they probably shouldn’t be doing this where they could get caught.

Jinsoul’s moved away from her mouth now, kissing her jaw, the sensitive spot under her ear, the column of her throat. Hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses, with a hint of teeth. Just how Jungeun likes it. In the quiet of the living room, her own breathing sounds louder than it probably is, a symphony of soft exhales and sharp inhales with each press of Jinsoul’s lips to her skin and each squeeze of Jinsoul’s hands on her waist.

She wants— God, she wants Jinsoul’s hands under her clothes, touching her bare skin. She wants Jinsoul everywhere.

“Soul,” Jungeun whimpers. “We should—”

Jinsoul chooses that exact moment to close her mouth around Jungeun’s pulse and suck _hard._ The rest of Jungeun’s sentence gets lost in a moan, and she can’t stop herself from grinding down on Jinsoul’s lap. Jungeun shudders, wraps her arms around Jinsoul’s shoulders, slides her hands into her dark hair.

Jungeun wants her closer, needs her closer, needs her—

“Fuck,” Jinsoul breathes against her throat. “Fuck, you’re so hot.”

Jungeun is helpless to do anything but moan and grind down again, not when Jinsoul sounds like that, low and rough and muttered right against her skin, not when Jinsoul’s mouth is sucking at the crook of her neck, hot and heavy and intoxicatingly good.

Jungeun feels her move away, lean back, and when Jungeun manages to blink her eyes open Jinsoul is looking up at her with wide eyes. Her lips are kiss-swollen and her gaze is dark. She’s looking at Jungeun like she can’t look away. Jinsoul’s hands slip under the hem of her sweater, fingertips brushing against the bare skin of her waist, and even a touch as simple as that has Jungeun whining and tugging Jinsoul back in, pressing closer and grinding down harder on her lap.

“So fucking hot,” Jinsoul mutters between kisses, lightly dragging her nails across the small of Jungeun’s back and tearing another high-pitched noise right out of her throat. “God, Jungie, I had no idea.”

 _What are you talking about,_ Jungeun wants to ask, _had no idea about what,_ but full sentences seem like an impossible task when Jinsoul is sucking on her tongue and tracing her fingertips up and down Jungeun’s spine. Her fingers bump against the clasp of her bra and Jungeun shudders.

“Soul,” Jungeun whimpers. “Bedroom, please.”

“God, yes,” Jinsoul says, biting teasingly at Jungeun’s bottom lip. “Let me just—”

Her hands slip from Jungeun’s waist to the back of her thighs, and then she’s standing, lifting Jungeun up like she weighs nothing more than a feather. She can feel Jinsoul smirking against her mouth when she gasps involuntarily, her legs tightening around Jinsoul’s waist so she doesn’t fall.

God. Jinsoul lifted her up so easily, like she weighed nothing. Like she could hold Jungeun down against the mattress or the sofa or hold her steady against the wall and— Jungeun whimpers. God.

In a rare moment of spatial awareness, Jinsoul successfully carries her through the dark apartment without knocking into any furniture or dropping Jungeun. They reach her bedroom, and Jinsoul kicks the door shut behind her before gently laying Jungeun on the bed.

Jinsoul follows her almost immediately, climbing on top of her and nudging Jungeun’s thighs apart so she can lie between them, her arms either side of Jungeun’s head.

It’s a little brighter in Jinsoul’s bedroom than in the living room; the curtains are open to let the moonlight spill in and the LED lights Jungeun bought Jinsoul for her birthday last year for her little aquarium tucked in beside the desk are switched on, drenching the room in pink and purple hues.

Jinsoul hovers above her, a soft smile on her face, her dark hair falling around them like an obsidian curtain, blocking out the rest of the world.

“Hi,” Jinsoul whispers.

“Hi,” Jungeun echoes.

Behind her ribs, Jungeun’s heart feels heavy, that Jinsoul-shaped anchor attached to it weighing her down and drowning her deeper and deeper. Somehow, with Jinsoul cupping Jungeun’s face with one hand, it doesn’t seem as scary as it usually does.

Jinsoul kisses her. Jinsoul kisses her slow and deep and sweet and time sort of melts into itself. Jinsoul kisses her until her lips are tingling, until her head is spinning, until a slow liquid heat is building in her stomach and pulsing through her veins.

“Off,” Jinsoul mumbles, tugging at the bottom of Jungeun’s sweater. “Take it off. God, take everything off.”

There’s a feverish ache permeating her whole body, one that only builds and builds as her sweater is peeled off, as Jinsoul’s shirt is unbuttoned, as jeans are tugged down and underwear tossed onto the floor, and it only gets hotter when Jinsoul falls back against her blue sheets, pulling Jungeun on top of her.

Jinsoul brings her into a languid, deep kiss, and it’s already so much. Limbs tangled together, Jinsoul’s tongue dipping into her mouth, every inch of skin soft and warm where it’s sliding against Jungeun’s, and her mind fogs over in mere moments.

Jungeun pulls back, catches her breath for a second before ducking her head to press her lips against Jinsoul’s jaw. Jinsoul sighs, tilting her head to the side to give Jungeun a better angle to kiss down the length of her throat. The soft, open-mouthed kisses turn into quick, teasing nips when Jungeun reaches the base of her throat, and Jinsoul moans quietly, her grip tightening on Jungeun’s shoulders where her hands are resting.

Jungeun lets her hands drift down Jinsoul’s body, mapping out the expanse of smooth skin, squeezing at her chest, stroking along her hips. Jinsoul squirms beneath her, the little gasping noises she keeps making encouraging Jungeun to then move her hand inwards, ghosting her fingertips against the inside of Jinsoul’s thigh.

“Jungeun,” Jinsoul whimpers, arching closer.

Jungeun wants to memorise the way Jinsoul whines her name breathlessly. Immortalise it so she never forgets it, never forgets the way it feels like someone has tugged down the zipper on her chest, leaving her heart exposed for everyone to see.

“Jungie,” Jinsoul whimpers again. “Please touch me.”

So Jungeun does.

Jungeun touches her, and commits everything to memory. Every detail, every noise, every sensation. The way Jinsoul shudders when Jungeun kisses a certain spot on the underside of her jaw. The way Jinsoul’s nails dig into her shoulders and her head tilts back, her dark haired fanned out against the white pillows. The way her breath hitches when Jungeun first moves her hand between her thighs, and the quiet moans that slowly grow in volume when Jungeun starts moving her fingers. The way it’s so easy to slide inside her when Jinsoul begs for more. The way Jinsoul gasps out her name in between shaky breaths, her hips rising up to meet the motions of Jungeun’s hand. The way she moans, loud and desperate, and clenches around Jungeun’s fingers when she’s pushed over the edge. The way Jinsoul kisses her messily, breathlessly, as she’s coming down, hands tangled in Jungeun’s hair as she clings to her and holds her close.

(Jungeun did that. Not Heesu, not Seokmin, not any of Jinsoul’s many boyfriends. Jungeun.)

Jinsoul looks a little dazed, still trying to catch her breath when Jungeun pushes herself up onto her elbows and looks down at Jinsoul. Her cheeks are flushed a pretty pink that extends down to her chest, and her eyes are unfocused when she blinks them open.

Even if Jungeun’s brain was working at full capacity — which it most decidedly is _not_ at this current moment — Jungeun doesn’t think she could come up with a coherent enough way to describe how Jinsoul looks, and all she can do is stare.

“God,” Jinsoul breathes, smiling dopily up at Jungeun. “That was...”

She trails off, one of her hands sliding into Jungeun’s hair and slipping around to cup the back of her neck. Jinsoul pulls her down and Jungeun comes willingly, letting Jinsoul kiss her softly and roll her onto her back.

Jungeun has done this before, yes, with Tzuyu, with Seungyeon, with a girl whose name Jungeun can’t actually remember when everybody went out for Sana’s birthday last year, but this time — _with Jinsoul,_ her brain helpfully supplies, _with the girl you’re in love with_ — feels so dauntingly new.

With Jinsoul staring down at her with an almost reverent look on her face, Jungeun can’t help but feel a little self-conscious under the scrutiny.

Jungeun might have been on the swim team in high school, but the most regular exercise she’s done since she moved to Seoul is running for the subway when she’s late for work or class, and their snack cupboard at home is always kept well stocked. She isn’t ashamed of her body or anything, she doesn’t feel the urgent need to yank her sweater back on or switch off the lights or anything, but next to Jinsoul she can’t help but feel a little... inadequate.

Jinsoul’s on the dance team. She lifted Jungeun like it was nothing earlier. She’s got abs on her abs. A jawline that could cut glass. Where Jungeun is shorter and skinnier, Jinsoul is taller and curvier, and—

“You’re so pretty,” Jinsoul murmurs, her hand skimming over Jungeun’s stomach.

And just like that, Jungeun doesn’t feel quite so vulnerable anymore. She just wants Jinsoul to touch her.

She pulls Jinsoul into another kiss, her breath hitching when Jinsoul immediately deepens it, tongue licking into her mouth, teeth biting at her bottom lip, stealing the air right out of her lungs and leaving her breathless.

Now that Jungeun isn’t preoccupied by the half of her brain that was desperate to touch Jinsoul, she’s a lot more aware of the other half, the half that really, desperately wants Jinsoul to touch her.

Jinsoul bites her lip again, a little longer, a little harder, before redirecting her attention to Jungeun’s neck and immediately honing in on that spot just below her jaw, kissing Jungeun right where she’s weak.

Jinsoul lingers on that spot for a while, until Jungeun knows there will be cherry red bruises on her skin tomorrow, but right now she doesn’t care. Something inside her, something probably a little unhealthy, wants to wake up tomorrow with bruises all over her as some kind of tangible proof that this wasn’t just a dream. That, even for a few hours, she was _Jinsoul’s_ Jungeun. So she tilts her head back, lets Jinsoul mark her up to her heart’s content, urging her on with quiet whimpers and fingernails digging into her back every time Jinsoul sucks on a particularly sensitive patch of skin.

At the same time, Jungeun slowly becomes aware of Jinsoul’s hands starting to wander, and her attention splits between Jinsoul’s lips and tongue and teeth painting a red and purple galaxy across her throat, and her gentle touch scorching a path across Jungeun’s bare skin, igniting what feels like every nerve ending in her body.

“Jinsoul,” Jungeun whines, tugging impatiently at Jinsoul’s hair.

Jinsoul hums against her skin, nipping at her pulse point before coming back up to her mouth. “What? What do you want me to do?”

“Anything,” Jungeun groans, voice strained. “Whatever you want, just touch me.”

She feels Jinsoul exhale shakily against her mouth. “Okay,” she says, a little breathless, and gives Jungeun a quick kiss.

Everything after that is just a dizzy haze of watching Jinsoul move down her body, lips catching on the sensitive skin of her chest, hands sliding over her bare skin, teeth nipping at the inside of her thighs, and then Jinsoul’s mouth is between her legs, licking into her and unravelling her completely.

It’s a little clumsy, definitely inexperienced, but the fact that it’s Jinsoul — Jinsoul eating her out like it’s the only thing that matters to her, Jinsoul replacing her tongue with her fingers and kissing her way back up Jungeun’s body to press their lips together, Jinsoul muttering about how good she feels as she presses inside Jungeun — makes it better than anything Jungeun’s ever felt.

It’s dizzyingly good, and this is it, Jungeun thinks hazily, this is her ruined for anybody else. She’s never going to want anybody else the way she wants Jinsoul.

She’s faintly aware of Jinsoul watching her, paying attention to her reactions to guide her where to touch, how much pressure to apply, what angle to use, but she can’t focus on anything except the waves of pleasure rolling through her body.

Jungeun opens her eyes, blinking hard until the blurry image of Jinsoul sharpens. Jinsoul’s already looking back at her, watching her with wide eyes. There’s a slightly awed, almost wonderstruck look on her face, like she can’t believe this is actually happening. They make eye contact, and Jungeun’s heart stutters. She can’t look away. Can’t break it even if she wanted to.

Letting go of Jinsoul’s hair, Jungeun moves her trembling hands to cup Jinsoul’s jaw, thumbs sweeping over her cheekbones. She gazes up at Jinsoul’s face, her pink cheeks, her big dark eyes, her soft swollen lips.

Jinsoul leans down, pressing their foreheads together. Jungeun’s too far gone for Jinsoul to be able to kiss her properly, but she ghosts her lips over Jungeun’s anyway, her nose nudging at Jungeun’s cheek, close enough that they’re breathing the same air.

“Soulie,” Jungeun moans. “I— please.”

Jungeun doesn’t even know what she’s pleading for. Everything is building so rapidly that Jungeun can barely keep up and then—

“It’s okay, baby,” Jinsoul murmurs. “I’ve got you.”

—and then all her muscles go taut, her eyes squeezing shut involuntarily as she shudders and whimpers underneath Jinsoul. Her heartbeat thunders in her ear. Heat rushes through her bloodstream. She’s light-headed and she thinks she might have stopped breathing at some point, everything melting and evaporating away, leaving nothing behind but her hopeless little heart, covered in Jinsoul’s fingerprints.

Slowly, Jungeun catches her breath while regaining awareness of her surroundings. The mattress below her, the softness of the blankets. The low hum of the aquarium, the passing traffic outside. Jinsoul’s arms wrapping around her, gathering her up and holding her close. Her whole body feels like warm, liquid honey and it takes a while before Jungeun has regained enough control over her body that she can pull back a little.

Jinsoul smiles at her, so softly that Jungeun feels something in her chest ache. It’s a familiar sensation, so much so that sometimes Jungeun feels like if she were to be reduced down to what holds the atoms of her body together, it would be nothing but this eternal feeling of longing.

Jinsoul closes the small distance, kisses Jungeun’s forehead, the tip of her nose, her left cheek, her right cheek, and then her mouth.

It’s slower now, none of the urgency from before. They kiss for a minute, or five, or sixty, time dilating around them. All Jungeun wants is to keep kissing Jinsoul, until the end of time itself, but exhaustion is slowly creeping up on her and embarrassingly, she has to break the kiss to yawn.

Jinsoul chuckles. “Come on,” she says, nudging Jungeun towards the edge of the bed. “Go get ready for bed.”

They quickly take turns in the bathroom, using Jinsoul’s horrendously ugly Judy-from-Zootopia dressing gown (complete with bunny ears and a fuzzy tail) that she refuses to get rid of to cover up in case Jiwoo or Sooyoung wake up at— God, at almost three in the morning. Jungeun comes back into the bedroom after brushing her teeth, shutting the door quietly and immediately throwing Judy onto the floor, giving her a little kick for good measure.

“You’re so mean to her,” Jinsoul says with amusement.

“Buying you that thing is the worst atrocity your sister has ever committed,” Jungeun grumbles. “Including that time she almost burned your house down trying to make instant ramyeon.”

Jinsoul snorts, shuffling over and lifting the blankets for Jungeun to slide in next to her. Jungeun obliges, even though the thought of falling asleep tucked up to Jinsoul — a still naked Jinsoul, she realises, which answers her unspoken question about pyjamas — in the same bed they just had sex in makes her want to hyperventilate and run halfway across the planet.

Jinsoul wraps her arms around Jungeun as soon as she’s comfortably under the covers, pulling her close to snuggle into her chest. Everything smells like her. The sheets, the pillows, her hair, her body. They all smell like Jinsoul’s sweet citrus shampoo and cherry blossom laundry detergent, the scent that Jungeun has associated with home since she was eight years old.

“Go to sleep,” Jinsoul mumbles sleepily, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Jungeun tucks her head into Jinsoul’s neck, lets herself melt into the bed, into Jinsoul, into the sweet sticky love bursting forth from the dam in her chest Jungeun has tried so hard to keep intact over the years.


	2. two.

**THEN.**

Jungeun is good at pretending.

Jungeun is good at pretending, but she doesn’t want to be doing it her whole life. This secret she’s been carrying around, a part of herself that she only really became aware of after Halloween, it’s beginning to weigh her down, starting to feel less like a secret and more like an anchor.

And with this anchor comes the awful feeling of guilt, because she’s not being honest with anybody. Jinsoul, Jiwoo, Heejin, Haseul, Soeun, her parents; they can all proclaim to know Jungeun the best, but they don’t. Not really. They know most of her, the bits and pieces that Jungeun lets them see, but not all of her.

It’s scary, living with a secret like this. Terrifying, really. Every time someone mentions crushes or boys, fear seeps in, mixing with the guilt and curdling until she feels sick. She hates having to hide such a large piece of herself but she’s too scared to show anyone that part, because what is she supposed to do if they don’t like it?

That’s what scares Jungeun the most. Not that she’s _different,_ but that the people she loves might stop loving her because of it.

Once she says it out loud, it’s real. It’s not just an abstract thought in the back of her mind. Once she says it out loud for someone else to hear, she can’t take it back. She can’t keep hiding from herself, trying to outrun this shadow that’s always lurking right behind her.

But the thing is, as scary as that shadowy secret is, Jungeun is tired of hiding.

A week before the school year starts — Jungeun’s second and Jinsoul’s third; and Jungeun is trying very hard not to think about how in a year’s time they’ll be separated by seventy miles — Jinsoul shows up one afternoon to drag Jungeun out for a walk in the sunshine. It’s a surprisingly warm day for late February, so they get the bus downtown, stop off at a convenience store to get a selection of snacks and drinks, and head towards the nearby botanic gardens.

Which, normally, would be fine; getting food or hot chocolate or boba and going for a walk through the botanic gardens is something they’ve done together a hundred times before. Except the universe has a funny sense of humour, because this time Jinsoul will not shut up about boyfriends.

Back when Jiwoo and Heejin first caught the crush bug, Jinsoul never seemed particularly interested in joining in, but now that Haseul and Jungwoo finally got over themselves and started dating just before Christmas, Jinsoul suddenly seems much more interested in a potential romantic relationship of her own.

Jinsoul had made some joke about wanting to spend some one-on-one time with her best friend before school starts, since Jungeun is apparently going to be spending all her time _fending off your new harem of admirers with a stick_ now that Jungeun has dyed her hair blonde and she therefore _won’t have any time for poor little Jindori anymore,_ and it just sort of spiralled from there.

She talks about the boys in school, and then about what she thinks the boys in Seoul will be like when she moves there next year, and then how once Jungeun follows her to Seoul the year after she’ll have her pick of the male population as well.

Jungeun just stays quiet, shoving a piece of gimbap in her mouth every time Jinsoul looks at her for a reply, because she can’t say anything. If she opens her mouth and tries to speak, nothing will come out. Jinsoul’s still rambling away, still talking about double dates with her and her future boyfriend, and Jungeun and _her_ future boyfriend. She doesn’t seem to have noticed the way Jungeun has fallen silent, frozen in terror.

Jungeun is so tired of not being able to breathe around this _thing_ in her throat, the _thing_ that she can never quite spit out. She’s so tired of hiding part of herself; she has to tell _somebody,_ before it eats her alive from the inside.

This isn’t just anybody though. This is _Jinsoul._ Her best friend. The person who took not only her first kiss, but also her second. The only person she’s ever kissed. The person she has sleepovers with and cuddles with and shares blankets on the sofa with when they’re watching a movie. Her favourite person in the whole world.

She doesn’t— she doesn’t really know what she’s going to do if Jinsoul reacts badly. Suppress it as best as she can, probably. Push it down, bury it deep and refuse to acknowledge it until it starves and withers away.

She doesn’t even realise her hands are shaking until one of Jinsoul’s gloved hands is reaching out and covering her own.

“Hey,” Jinsoul says, her voice quieter, sounding more worried. “Are you okay?”

Jinsoul is her best friend. That has to count for something, right? Jungeun trusts her. Jinsoul would never leave her. Best friends are supposed to tell each other everything, so if she can’t trust Jinsoul with this then who _can_ she trust?

“No, I—” Jungeun manages to stutter out, before she can second guess herself. “I think— I think I need to tell you something, unnie.”

Jungeun glances around; they’re sitting on a bench beside one of the big magnolia trees, no one paying them any attention. There’s an eldery couple on another bench further down the path, a woman pushing a pram on the other side of the gardens, and some kids playing with their dog further away. No one is around to overhear, but that doesn’t make it any less frightening.

Jinsoul’s thumb runs over the back of Jungeun’s hand. It feels a little like the only thing stopping Jungeun from shattering into pieces and floating away on the gentle breeze.

“Take your time,” Jinsoul murmurs. So supportive, like she’s always been. “You can tell me anything, I promise.”

“You promise?” It slips out before Jungeun can think about it, and she berates herself for sounding so vulnerable.

“Yeah, I promise.”

Jungeun sort of feels like she’s having an out of body experience. Like she’s watching herself slowly turn her hand over so she can slot their fingers together, watching herself nervously glance between their hands and Jinsoul’s open, expressive face, watching herself taking a leap of faith as she opens her mouth.

“I don’t think I like boys. Um, like that. No, I know— I’m... I like girls, unnie. I, uh— I’m a lesbian.”

And then it’s out there. It’s out. It was stuttered and whispered and possibly the most poorly constructed sentence Jungeun’s ever spoken in her life, but she said it. She finally said it.

Jungeun can’t breathe for a few seconds.

And then Jinsoul’s face softens, and the fist squeezing tightly around Jungeun’s heart finally relaxes its grip, because it’s okay. It’s _okay._ There’s no way Jinsoul would look at her like that if she hated Jungeun now.

“Come here.” Jinsoul opens her arms and Jungeun falls into them, wrapping her own arms around Jinsoul’s waist and burying her face in her shoulder. “You think that’s going to change how I see you? You’re my best friend, I love you no matter what.”

“I’ve— I’ve never said it before,” Jungeun mumbles, muffled by the fabric of Jinsoul’s hoodie. “You’re the first person I’ve told.”

Jungeun feels Jinsoul press a kiss to the top of her head, and she tries, mostly unsuccessfully, to blink back the tears she can feel pricking at her eyes. “Thank you for telling me. For trusting me enough to tell me. I’m so proud of you.”

After Jinsoul, it’s a little easier to tell the others.

 _Jiwoo_ is the one who starts crying while they’re hugging after Jungeun manages to blurt it out while they’re watching some drama together and Jiwoo won’t stop going on about how cute the main actor is.

Heejin just says, “Cool, my aunt’s a lesbian,” like that’s of any interest to Jungeun when Heejin’s aunt is thirty years older than her and lives in Tokyo. Then she asks Jungeun, “who do you think is the hottest girl in school and is it me?”

Haseul bakes her a cake — red velvet decorated with a lopsided rainbow made of icing — and then makes Jungeun awkwardly explain when Yeojin overhears and asks what a lesbian is. Jungwoo says _congrats bro_ and then fist bumps her.

Soeun just ruffles her hair and promises to threaten the first girl Jungeun brings home, and her parents give her a hug and remind her that the open door policy is still mandatory regardless of whether she brings home a boy or a girl.

After that, after Jungeun stops hiding a part of herself from the people in her life that she loves and who love her, it’s easier to breathe.

/

Jungeun’s second year of high school starts off well.

She’s still on the swim team after joining the previous year, and she’s basically adopted as the unofficial co-captain by the actual captain, Jeon Somin. Jiwoo wins the student council president election by a landslide victory after a few weeks of some particularly ruthless campaigning. Jinsoul gets made head cheerleader now that Park Chaeyoung has graduated, basically elevating her position on the school food chain to the very top, and she immediately makes Haseul and Heejin her two right hand women.

When it comes to her sexuality, well... She doesn’t exactly announce it to the world, doesn’t go waving a rainbow flag around or making an official Facebook status or anything, but she doesn’t go out of her way to hide it.

She’s still cautious about who she actually tells, having to constantly navigate who she’s comfortable knowing and who she can trust to not be awful about it, and it's still a little scary each time she comes out to someone new, hoping she hasn’t vastly misread the person and how she thinks they’ll react, but it gets easier each time.

Which is just as well, because then one of the boys on the football team asks her out at the beginning of April — _I told you the blonde hair would work,_ Jinsoul tells her smugly — and after Jungeun politely rejects him on the basis of him being a _him,_ it’s spread around the entire school by the end of the week.

Surprisingly, nothing really changes.

Sure, there’s a few people who stare at her a little longer in the halls, a few nasty comments muttered loud enough for her to hear, and she gets one or two suspicious looks in the locker room after swim practice, but really, nothing changes. It’s definitely a little disconcerting knowing that the number of people who know about what was once her biggest secret has leapt from one to seven to the entire school in the span of just over a month, but no one is stupid enough to go after the head cheerleader’s best friend, and besides, it’s not like Jungeun is the only out lesbian in the school.

Son Chaeyoung, Jungeun’s friend in the photography club, is a lesbian, and she’s best friends with that cute bisexual Taiwanese transfer student that has half the school population, male and female alike, trailing after her with hearts in their eyes. There’s been long standing rumours about Somin’s secret affair with Jeon Jiwoo, the captain of their rival high school’s swim team, for as long as Jungeun has known her. Jisoo may have graduated now, but Jungeun walked in on her and Jennie leaping away from each other in the locker room enough times when the end of swim practice coincided with the end of cheer practice to know that _something_ was going on there.

And as it turns out, Jungeun is not the token gay in their little group of five.

Jiwoo is the first one, and in true Kim Jiwoo fashion, she announces out of absolutely nowhere one day that she’s _a huge lesbian, like really I’m so fucking gay_ while the two of them are having lunch on the bleachers and watching Jinsoul, Haseul and Heejin with the rest of the cheerleaders. Although on second thought, Jungeun completely understands Jiwoo interrupting her complaining about her math homework to declare her sexuality. She just hopes it isn’t Jinsoul that’s inspired Jiwoo’s outburst.

A few months after that, in the middle of summer vacation, the five of them are playing truth or dare in Jiwoo’s basement-turned-media-room one evening, Jinsoul having smuggled some soju she ‘borrowed’ from her parents liquor stash, and they’re all pleasantly flushed and giggly when Heejin gets dared to tell them a secret none of them know, and she blurts out _I think I like girls too._

Jinsoul never says anything. Neither does Haseul. Which is fine. Not everyone Jungeun is friends with has to end up being into girls. It’s fine.

She still has Jiwoo and Heejin to make eye contact with when a hot girl walks past them at the mall. She still has Somin to tell her scandalous stories about the art of seducing a straight girl since apparently the rumours about her and Jeon Jiwoo are very much true. She still has Chaeyoung to shamelessly flirt with in that jokingly harmless way because there aren't really many people they _can_ flirt with. She still has Jiwoo and Heejin and Somin and Chaeyoung to help make her feel not quite so outnumbered by the amount of girls who aren’t like them.

For a while, everything is good. And then Kang Heesu ruins everything.

Jinsoul drops it into conversation so easily; a casual _Heesu asked me out_ while they’re all having lunch together. Jungeun’s stomach lurches in response, like the floor’s been yanked out from under her feet, as a part of her heart that she thought she left locked up in a tiny hall closet in Park Chaeyoung’s mansion a year ago breaks free.

Nine years, over three thousand days together, and it hits Jungeun _now_ — on a Wednesday afternoon in September at the rickety lunch tables in the quad — leaving her helpless in the face of something that really, she should have seen coming.

Kang Heesu is the captain of the football team; nice, popular, generally regarded as the hottest guy in the whole school. (Apparently.) Jung Jinsoul is head cheerleader; sweet, popular, the prettiest girl in the whole school. (Definitely.) Heesu has been openly flirting with Jinsoul for several weeks now and Jinsoul hadn’t exactly been disinterested. It was inevitable.

“Where’s he taking you?” Jungeun asks to try and mask how her lungs are painfully constricting, because she’s supposed to care, because she’s Jinsoul’s best friend and she’s supposed to be invested in her love life, even though each sentence out of Jinsoul’s mouth as she starts rambling about a Thai restaurant that just opened downtown feels like picking at an unhealed wound until it bleeds.

Jungeun is happy for Jinsoul. She really is. She just never realised until right now that _she_ wants to be the one to make her light up like that.

Jungeun watches her even after she turns back to the others to answer their rapid fire questions, staring at her with this new light abruptly shining on her; the way Jinsoul’s eyebrows slant up while she pouts at something Jiwoo’s teasing her about, the sharp curve of her jaw when she gives in and laughs along with her, the gentle breeze blowing a stray lock of blonde hair across her forehead. Jungeun’s fingers twitch with the urge to reach out and tuck that lock of hair behind Jinsoul’s ear. Instead, she tightens her grip on her chopsticks and drops her gaze to her food.

_Don’t ruin it. Stop looking at her like that. Don’t ruin it. Stop looking at her like that._

This is when it catches up to Jungeun; that strange jolt behind her ribs whenever Jinsoul smiled, the one that she could never quite translate to words, finally chasing Jungeun down to tell her something that deep down, she thinks she knew all along. She likes Jinsoul, a little more than she should like her best friend. Her best friend, who has never shown any interest in girls, who has only ever shown interest in boys.

This is when it catches up to Jungeun; the kiss in Jinsoul’s bedroom, the kiss in Park Chaeyoung’s hall closet, how much she wants to kiss Jinsoul again. But not as part of a _let’s just get it out of the way_ excuse, and not in a closet because an empty bottle told them to.

She wants to kiss Jinsoul good morning when they meet up to walk to school together, chaste and spontaneous. She wants to kiss Jinsoul when they’re buried under a pile of blankets, soft and sweet. She wants to kiss Jinsoul under the dim light on her porch after walking her home from a date, nervous and gentle.

_Don’t ruin it. Stop looking at her like that._

A supercut of all their time together plays through her mind, technicolour vivid, and Jungeun decides immediately, right then and there, that she will do whatever it takes to bury this, to try and make this go away. Jinsoul is her best friend. Jungeun isn’t going to risk all of that, all those years together and the friendship they’ve built for the two of them, just for some silly fleeting little crush that will probably be gone in a few months.

/

(When Jinsoul asks Jungeun to help her get ready before she goes to meet Heesu, Jungeun ignores the hollow ache in her chest and agrees immediately.

“Wear your blue sweater,” Jungeun says eventually, after almost an hour of watching Jinsoul cycling through every piece of clothing she owns and stressing that she has nothing to wear. “The turtleneck one.”

Jinsoul makes a face. “Really? Chaewon said I look like our grandmother in that.”

“Do you want to take fashion advice from your best friend or your little sister? Trust me,” Jungeun replies, hoping her voice doesn’t sound as wistful to Jinsoul as it does to herself. “He won’t be able to stop staring all night.”)

/

Three dates later, Jinsoul and Heesu are officially a couple. And Jungeun is still just Jinsoul’s best friend.

Jungeun watches them sometimes — although really, she’s only watching Jinsoul; she wonders how long she’s only been watching Jinsoul — and does her best to ignore the twist of jealousy in her stomach.

It’s hard to hate Heesu. For a jock, he’s sweet, surprisingly funny, and he worships the ground Jinsoul walks on, which is all Jungeun can really ask for from her best friend’s boyfriend. It never feels like he’s stolen Jinsoul away from her or he’s trying to monopolise all of Jinsoul’s time, and Jinsoul never sidelines Jungeun for Heesu. He simply tags along sometimes, the same way Jungwoo does with Haseul, when they all go out for food or bowling or to the park. 

In another life Jungeun thinks she and Heesu could probably be friends, but in this life all Heesu is is a glaring reminder of Jungeun’s place in Jinsoul’s life, and that is very firmly as nothing more than her best friend.

  
  


**NOW.**

The first thing Jungeun becomes aware of is how warm she is.

The second is that there’s a car alarm going off somewhere outside that must have been what woke her up — she’s always been cursed to be a light sleeper.

The third is that it’s still dark, which means it’s still early even for her, which means she can sleep for a little longer.

Jungeun snuggles further under the blanket, pushing her face into the soft pillow that smells like cherry blossoms and tries to let the sound of the rain pattering softly against the window lull her back to sleep.

And then someone — no, not _someone_ ; Jinsoul — shifts behind her, and the warm, content feeling evaporates instantly, replaced instead with the sensation of being drenched with a bucket of ice cold water, chilling her to the bone.

She’s in Jinsoul’s bed. Everything smells like cherry blossoms because she’s in Jinsoul’s bed and because Jinsoul washes her sheets with the same laundry detergent her mom uses because it made her feel less homesick when she first moved to Seoul. She’s warmer than usual because she’s in Jinsoul’s bed, under Jinsoul’s stupid thick blanket because she gets cold easily, and Jinsoul’s body heat has spread to Jungeun’s side of the bed. She’s in Jinsoul’s bed because Jinsoul kissed her in the living room and then carried her through to her bedroom when Jungeun asked her to and she’s in Jinsoul’s bed because Jungeun is the idiot who slept with her best friend.

The same panic that gripped her the morning after they first kissed takes hold of her again, only this time it’s a thousand times worse, because this wasn’t just a dumb kiss that, if necessary, they could’ve blamed on alcohol. This was a little more than that. This was Jinsoul taking her to bed and begging Jungeun to touch her. This was Jinsoul pressing her against the sheets and Jungeun telling her to do whatever she wanted. This was them kissing for ages and then falling asleep tangled up in each other.

At some point Jungeun must have rolled over, and now Jinsoul is behind her, loosely spooning her. One of her arms is draped over Jungeun’s waist, and her knees are touching the back of Jungeun’s thighs.

Jungeun can’t be here. She can’t— she needs to leave. Last night she welcomed the heat of Jinsoul’s body against her own, but now it’s too much. It burns, and not in a good way.

She slips out of bed and quickly starts gathering her clothes, hunting around in the dim early morning light. Jinsoul mumbles something in her sleep, and Jungeun freezes midway through pulling her jeans on, holding her breath like the sound of her mild hyperventilating will be enough to wake Jinsoul up.

All she does is roll over onto her back, the blanket slipping down as she moves.

Jungeun at least had the presence of mind not to leave any marks on Jinsoul’s neck, no matter how badly she wanted to, but she can’t say the same for the rest of Jinsoul’s body. Her collarbones, her chest, the top of her stomach are all dotted with little red and pink crescent-shaped bruises.

Most of them are faint, and will probably have faded by tomorrow, but there’s a few that will last a bit longer, and one at the very base of her throat that’s darker than the rest. Jungeun wants to smack herself. Sooyoung has like, a radar for when people have been stupid and horny. If she catches sight of any of those very incriminating red splotches on Jinsoul’s skin, she’s going to launch a full scale investigation, and Jinsoul is not a spectacularly good liar.

Still asleep, one of Jinsoul’s hands reaches out, landing on the still-warm spot where Jungeun was a minute ago. Jungeun’s heart constricts painfully. She needs to leave.

Jungeun scrambles into the rest of her clothes, finds her shoes in the hallway and her jacket draped over a chair in the living room. Jiwoo and Sooyoung are nowhere to be seen, so Jungeun escapes out of the apartment unnoticed, and quickly starts walking.

It’s still early, not even seven yet. It’s quite chilly, the sun only just peeking over the horizon and rain drizzling down from the clouds above. Jungeun isn’t even completely awake yet, disoriented in that unpleasant way when you’re yanked out of sleep too early.

The only bright side is that it’s early enough that there’s nobody around to see her having a mild mental breakdown. Jungeun knows what she must look like right now. She hasn’t showered, her hair isn’t brushed, her clothes are wrinkled from spending all night thrown on the floor. She looks like she’s sneaking out of some trashy one night stand, commencing her walk of shame before the city can get too busy.

Jungeun would almost have preferred a drunk hook up with a total stranger. Being clowned in the group chat for a few months would have been preferable to being dumb enough to kiss Jinsoul with a decade of longing behind it.

Jungeun walks until she finds an empty bus shelter, ducking under it to hide from the rain and try to calm herself down. She texts Jinsoul a flimsy excuse for when she wakes up — _had to go into work, someone called in sick and they needed cover_ — so Jinsoul doesn’t immediately think she’s freaked out and ran away. Which she absolutely has, and Jinsoul will absolutely know that. She’d just like to pretend for a little bit longer that Jinsoul won’t see through her.

She knows she’s taking the cowardly way out, running away so she doesn’t have to face the aftermath, but she couldn’t be there any longer. She couldn’t be there when Jinsoul woke up.

Jungeun’s never felt so stupid in her life. She knew this would happen. She knew that if she slept with Jinsoul it would just make everything worse. There’s no way that Jinsoul didn’t figure it out. There’s no fucking way that Jinsoul could have looked at her after and _not_ figured it out. What the hell was she thinking?

She’s so stupid.

The most humiliating part about this whole humiliating ordeal is that she was so damn _easy_ for Jinsoul. All Jinsoul had to do was kiss her neck and call her _baby_ and that was it, Jungeun was falling apart. A couple whispered words, a few heated touches, and then Jungeun was serving her heart up on a silver platter to get ripped out by the one person she can never really have because Jinsoul’s never going to see her that way.

She’s so _stupid._

Jungeun sighs, calls an Uber to take her home, successfully sneaks in without being caught by Ryujin, and it isn’t until she’s in the safety of her bedroom, getting undressed to climb into her own bed that doesn’t smell like cherry fucking blossoms and sleep for at least a week, that she realises she picked up one of Jinsoul’s sweaters from the floor and not her own.

/

It’s radio silence for three days.

They hooked up on Saturday night. Jungeun ran away on Sunday morning. It’s now Wednesday afternoon, and Jungeun is waiting for Jiwoo and her questionably poor timekeeping skills — _time is a man-made concept, Jungie!_ — so they can get lunch before going to the library to study for a few hours.

Except when Jiwoo eventually shows up, penguin beanie on her head and wearing one of Sooyoung’s expensive designer hoodies, she gives Jungeun a guilty look and says, “Do you mind if we make a quick detour after we’ve eaten?”

The ‘detour’ is apparently just dropping some food off for Sooyoung, who responded to Jiwoo’s earlier text about lunch with _I’m hungry_ and about ten pleading face emojis, and Jiwoo proceeded to be fifteen minutes late meeting Jungeun because she was too busy fixing Sooyoung a little dosirak. Which is fine, except Jiwoo fails to mention that Sooyoung can’t go out and get her own damn food because she’s currently holed up in the dance studio, working on choreography for the upcoming winter showcase.

Along with the rest of the dance team.

Which includes Jinsoul.

No big deal.

Jungeun and Jiwoo step into the warm studio and Jiwoo immediately skips off towards her girlfriend, leaving Jungeun to linger awkwardly by the door. She recognises most of the girls in the room; Sana and Momo appear to be wrestling on the floor, with Mina watching them in amusement and Bora surreptitiously filming the entire thing. Lisa and Seulgi are either working on some complicated arm movements or engaging in some bizarre secret handshake. Chaeyeon and Chaeryeong are talking to Joohyun in the corner. And Jinsoul—

Jinsoul hasn’t noticed her yet.

She’s on the other side of the room, her back towards Jungeun while she talks to Yeji, and Jungeun takes a moment to drink in the sight of her. She’s wearing baggy sweatpants and an oversized long-sleeved white tshirt, neither of which do anything to dim Jungeun’s memory of the soft curves underneath. Jungeun feels the inevitable tug on her heartstrings, a part of her that she’s never quite managed to fully shut off, trying to pull her towards Jinsoul.

And then Yeji catches sight of her, and points her out to Jinsoul.

Jinsoul turns around, sees Jungeun, and she looks— she looks fine. She looks perfectly normal. She lights up and smiles like she always does when she runs into Jungeun unexpectedly, so either her poker face has gotten better, or she really is just that unbothered by everything. Does she even realise the past few days are the longest they’ve gone without speaking since middle school, since the summer when Jinsoul went camping with her family for a few days and had no phone service the entire time?

Jinsoul says something to Yeji, and then comes over to Jungeun, stopping right in front of her. The last time they were this close to each other, they were still naked, Jungeun curled into Jinsoul’s arms as they fell asleep. Jungeun tries not to think about that.

“Hi,” Jinsoul says. She sounds fine. She sounds perfectly normal. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here. Sooyoung said you and Jiwoo were going to the library.”

About a million questions leap to the forefront of Jungeun’s overreacting mind. Has Jinsoul been wondering about her whereabouts? Did Jinsoul ask Sooyoung? Did Jinsoul have to ask Sooyoung because she felt like she couldn’t ask Jungeun directly? Or did Sooyoung just happen to mention it in passing? Did Sooyoung mention it because she _knows_ and thinks Jinsoul should just get it over with and let Jungeun down gently?

“Yeah, we are,” Jungeun says instead, gesturing vaguely in the direction of where Jiwoo and Sooyoung are smiling dopily at each other. “Just taking a little detour so Jiwoo can pamper Sooyoung with a home cooked meal.”

“I hope she didn’t make brownies,” Jinsoul says, shooting a worried look towards the couple. “Remember that time she somehow mixed up baking soda and flour?”

Jungeun snorts. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her mom that mad.”

For a moment, it feels normal. The two of them making fun of Jiwoo’s dubious baking skills and the gag-inducing lovestruck look on Sooyoung’s face as she kisses Jiwoo on the cheek. But Jinsoul doesn’t reply, and Jungeun doesn’t say anything, and then the silence grows awkward.

They’ve had stupid little fights over the most trivial of things before, but they’ve always made up after a few hours, a day or two at the most. Nothing like this. Twelve years, and Jungeun can’t recall a single time where the silence has been awkward.

“Have you—”

“What is—”

They both try to speak at the same time, and it adds another layer of tension to the already uncomfortable atmosphere. Jinsoul forces a chuckle and runs a hand through her hair, like she always does whenever she’s nervous and doesn’t know what to do. The motion makes the collar of her tshirt slip down a little, and Jungeun can’t help her gaze flickering down to the newly exposed skin. Dotted across the base of Jinsoul’s throat and along her collarbone are fading red marks. Jungeun tries desperately not to think about the way Jinsoul whimpered while Jungeun put them there.

“I think we should stop,” Jungeun blurts out, wincing immediately after. “The— you know.”

This really isn’t the kind of conversation they should have in public. No one’s paying any attention to them, apart from Yeji who keeps glancing at them suspiciously, but still. It’s still a little surreal that the first time they’re actually acknowledging everything is when they’re putting an end to it. Surrounded by the entire dance team, no less.

“Oh,” Jinsoul says softly. “Yeah. I, uh— I was going to say the same thing, actually.”

Jungeun blinks. “You were?”

“Yeah. I mean, it’s the smart thing to do, right?” Jinsoul says. She still sounds fine, she still sounds perfectly normal, but she won’t meet Jungeun’s eye. “If we keep going, it might make things weird, and I don’t want that to happen. Like, things are kind of weird right now, aren’t they?”

“Yeah,” Jungeun says faintly, feeling a bit like she’s been suckerpunched in the stomach.

“So I don’t want things to get worse, you know?” Jinsoul continues, still sounding totally, perfectly _fine._ “You’re my best friend, Jungie. I don’t want anything to get in the way of that.”

Jungeun winces, because there it is, another glaring reminder that they’re _just friends._ Never mind the fact that they’ve been making out semi-regularly for almost five months, never mind the fact that Jinsoul might not be as straight as Jungeun initially believed her to be, never mind the fact that Jinsoul carried Jungeun into her room, ripped her clothes off and begged Jungeun to touch her. Jinsoul still only sees her as a _friend._

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Jungeun manages to get out around the splinter lodged in her ribs, pointy end digging right into her heart. “You’re my best friend too. That’s the most important thing.”

Jinsoul nods in agreement. She opens her mouth to say something, but one of the other girls calls her name, gesturing at her to hurry up, and Jungeun can hear Joohyun telling Sooyoung to finish up her extended goodbye to Jiwoo sometime in the next few minutes.

Jungeun’s only been here for a few minutes. Five months, all over just like that, in the space of a few minutes and some awkwardly stuttered sentences.

“Okay, well,” Jinsoul says. “I gotta get back to practice, but I’ll see you later?”

Jungeun nods. “Yeah. See you. Maybe tomorrow, or at the weekend.”

“Sure.”

Jinsoul doesn’t hug her goodbye. She sort of takes a half-step forward, her body moving automatically, and then seems to second-guess herself, like she isn’t sure if she’s allowed to touch Jungeun anymore. She doesn’t hug her. Instead, she gives her an awkward smile, before she turns and goes back over to the others.

Somehow, that stings the most out of everything that just happened.

  
  


**THEN.**

Her final year of high school is weird without Jinsoul.

Jungeun still has Jiwoo and Heejin, of course, and FaceTime and KakaoTalk and Snapchat ensure she still talks to Jinsoul and sees her goofy face everyday even if it’s through a screen or a selfie, but it’s just not the same.

When Jungeun gets made captain of the swim team, Jinsoul can only beam and congratulate her through the screen of her laptop, their call cut short after fifteen minutes because Jinsoul has a class to get to, instead of leaping onto her in a bone-crushing hug and then dragging her out for bubble tea in celebration the way she did when Jungeun first made the team two years ago.

There’s no Jinsoul waiting for her in the parking lot after swim practice and cheerleading have both finished, ready to drive them home via Starbucks or the mall, and there’s nobody to indulge Jungeun’s fondness for Sunday morning walks in the botanic gardens because Heejin refuses to get out of bed before noon on a weekend and Jiwoo claims that that time in the morning is a government conspiracy.

When Jiwoo invites them over for a movie night, the sofa seems much too big for just the three of them. With Jinsoul in Seoul and Haseul even further away in Hong Kong on a scholarship at some prestigious business school, there’s no one to pull the age hierarchy card when everyone’s squabbling over what movie to watch, and there’s no one to hog the popcorn or share the blanket or put their cold feet on Jungeun.

It hurts sometimes — aches, on the particularly bad days — missing Jinsoul, knowing that a chunk of her heart is miles away in Seoul, but mostly it just feels like Jungeun’s going through life a little off-kilter. Like she’s constantly missing the last step on the staircase and having to take a moment to right herself each time she automatically turns to where Jinsoul should be to tell her a joke or make a teasing comment or ask her to hang out after school.

The longest they’ve spent apart is one month, the summer during Jinsoul’s first year of high school when Jungeun and her family spent all of July at her grandparents in Gwangju.

(Jungeun returned to discover that Jinsoul had finally shot up to tower a good few inches over her, the persistent remaining baby fat on her face had given way to sharp cheekbones and a sharper jawline, and the sunny days she’d spent helping her cousin with his gardening business for the filthy rich of Cheongju had turned her scrawny little best friend into someone tanned and muscled and _hot._ )

Now, Jinsoul is in Seoul, two hours away by train, and she’ll be there for an entire year before Jungeun graduates and comes to join her in the capital. And Jungeun is terrified that Jinsoul will realise that with the new life she has and the new friends she’ll make, she won’t really need Jungeun, and slowly but surely she’ll forget about her.

Jungeun blurts this out once, during one of their late night phone calls when it’s past midnight and both of them are about to drop off, general drowsiness and the sound of Jinsoul’s breathing drastically lowering Jungeun’s defences.

“Nobody could ever replace you,” Jinsoul assures her softly. “You’re my best friend. I’m not going to find a new one, I promise.”

Jungeun tries so hard to believe her. She plays Jinsoul’s words back in her head every time she sees Jinsoul get tagged in a Facebook check-in by someone called Kang Seulgi, every time Jinsoul posts a photo on Instagram and tags _renebaebae_ and _peachmomo_ , every time Jinsoul sends her a Snapchat of her food or her coffee or a tray of shots and Jungeun can clearly see there’s someone else at the table with her.

Jungeun clings onto that promise whenever Jinsoul calls her to tell Jungeun about her day and Jungeun feels like she’s being left behind, like she’s missing out on Jinsoul moving on in her life while Jungeun is still stuck in Cheongju, right where Jinsoul left her.

Like when Jungeun answers Jinsoul’s FaceTime call while she’s procrastinating her geometry homework and it takes her a second to recognise the face shoved into the camera, because the person grinning back at her is no longer blonde.

“Your _hair?_ ” Jungeun blurts out.

Jinsoul laughs, dramatically running a hand through her freshly dyed jet black hair. “Is the result of a box of hair dye that Momo had lying around, five thousand won worth of sake and Sooyoung’s peer pressure.”

“ _Sooyoung’s peer pressure,_ she says like it’s a bad thing,” Sooyoung’s disembodied voice says from somewhere offscreen, before the camera shakes and Sooyoung herself appears, peering over Jinsoul’s shoulder to wave cheerfully at Jungeun before ruffling Jinsoul’s hair. “You look hot, bitch, you’re welcome.” Sooyoung sighs wistfully. “If only you weren’t so tragically straight...”

And then there’s Sooyoung, Jinsoul’s roommate and new (non-Jungeun) best friend.

Sooyoung is gorgeous in that completely unattainable way, like she’s just stepped out of a Yves Saint Laurent advert, appears to exclusively wear crop tops regardless of how close the thermostat is to zero and has a different leather jacket for every day of the week, and judging from both the huge rainbow flag hanging on the wall of her side of their dorm and ninety percent of what Jungeun overhears in the background of calls, swings the same way as Jungeun.

She’s that effortlessly cool girl who, were Jungeun not busy being hopelessly besotted with her best friend, she would probably start crushing on from afar after the first time she sauntered into the background of Jinsoul’s FaceTime call. So it’s only natural that Jungeun would feel jealous. She used to be the one to occupy the majority of Jinsoul’s time, and now there’s someone else to fill that space. Someone taller and cooler and more sociable, someone with abs you could cut glass on, someone with a cute Busan accent, someone who probably doesn’t bottle up all her complicated best friend related feelings.

 _Nobody could ever replace you,_ Jungeun reminds herself later, when the call has ended because Jinsoul and Sooyoung are going to some party tonight, _you’re my best friend. I’m not going to find a new one, I promise._

/

It’s a month or so into the school year when Chou Tzuyu, Jinsoul’s successor as head cheerleader, decides to throw a party on a Friday night, and Jiwoo and Heejin insist on all three of them attending.

“You’re not just a swim team jock now, Jungie, you’re _the_ jock,” is Jiwoo’s attempt at logical reasoning, like Jungeun isn’t perfectly aware the only reason Jiwoo wants to go is so she can flirt with all the cheerleaders. “It’s like, a legal obligation of high school that if you’re invited to a party by school royalty then you have to go.”

“Plus I hear Tzuyu is single,” Heejin singsongs, either unaware of or just ignoring the fact that Jungeun has exchanged the grand total of about five words with Tzuyu in the entire two years they’ve attended the same school.

“Wait, really?” Jiwoo says. “I thought she was dating that Chaeyoung girl from the photography club?”

“That’s what I thought, but Soojin told me that Hayoung told her that Dahyun said Chaeyoung and Tzuyu are just friends,” Heejin says. “So, Tzuyu is single, Jungeun is single. Captain of the swim team, head cheerleader. It’s meant to be.”

So, albeit a bit reluctantly, Jungeun allows Jiwoo and Heejin to follow her home after school finishes to get ready, because her parents won’t be back before they leave for the party and because Soeun has left enough _party-appropriate clothes_ in her room since moving away for university that they can borrow.

(“You mean slutty?”

“The word I would use is _revealing._ ”

“I am _not_ slut-shaming your sister, but Jungie you are not wearing a damn turtleneck to this party.”)

She sends a Snapchat to Jinsoul just before they leave, a mirror selfie with the caption _first senior year party at tzuyu’s mansion wish me luck,_ and receives a very blurry selfie of Jinsoul and Sooyoung in response, Jinsoul holding up a shot of what Jungeun assumes is tequila — at 6PM — and making a kissy face at the camera, while Sooyoung is already in the process of downing her own shot, and the caption reads _sooyoungie says you look hot ps I love yooou tell heekkie and wooming I said hi_ with about every second word misspelled.

Despite promising to not leave Jungeun to fend for herself at least for the first hour, Heejin gets stolen away by some of the cheerleaders almost the second they walk in the front door, and Jiwoo disappears not long after to flirt her way around the house like a social butterfly. Jungeun, on the other hand, ends up spending most of the party talking to Tzuyu — which then advances to flirting with Tzuyu once she’s had a few drinks — but she figures that she’s merely a substitute for Chaeyoung, Tzuyu’s best friend who has been out all week with the flu. 

So she’s a little surprised when she gets to her homeroom on the Monday morning after the party to find Tzuyu already lurking there.

“Uh, hi?”

Friday night was the most she’s ever spoken to Tzuyu in the entire time they’ve known each other, but Jungeun had assumed it was just a temporary camaraderie born of alcohol and circumstance and Chaeyoung’s absence. Tzuyu's presence at her homeroom suggests otherwise.

“Hi,” Tzuyu says with a dazzling smile that has stolen half the school population’s hearts. “Can I talk to you for a minute? It won’t take long.”

“Sure.” Jungeun glances sideways at Jiwoo, who is looking between them with barely concealed glee. “I’ll meet you inside, Wooming”

Jiwoo scurries off into the classroom, but not before shooting Jungeun a horrendous wink and two thumbs up over Tzuyu’s shoulder.

“What’s up?” Jungeun asks warily, wondering if she’d actually fallen and hit her head on her walk to school today.

“I had a nice time on Friday. Talking to you, I mean. A really nice time.” Tzuyu smiles at her again, and is she— is she _blushing?_ Tzuyu’s always seemed to operate on a plane slightly above mere mortals like Jungeun, but right now she looks like every other nervous teenager about to ask out their crush. Understanding begins to dawn on Jungeun as to what is happening right now. “Do you want to do it again sometime? This time without the alcohol and hundred other teenagers wrecking my living room?”

Jungeun thinks about Jinsoul, miles away in Seoul. She looks at Tzuyu, here, in Cheongju.

“Yeah, I would. How’s Wednesday?”

“Wednesday is good. We could get some food and then go see that new movie you mentioned at the party? The one about the aliens?”

“Sounds nice.”

Tzuyu smiles. “It’s a date.”

And that’s how Jungeun starts dating her first girlfriend.

It’s easy, being with Tzuyu.

Tzuyu is nice. And sweet and funny and she brings Jungeun flowers and always has a supply of chocolate for whenever Jungeun gets a sugar craving. She makes Jungeun’s heart skip a beat whenever they hold hands and she gives her butterflies whenever they kiss. Jiwoo and Heejin like her, Haseul approves of her, Jungeun’s parents love her, and Jinsoul reassures Jungeun that Tzuyu passes the best friend test even if she is a little intimidating.

(Jinsoul obviously shows Sooyoung a picture of Tzuyu at some point because the next time she FaceTimes Jinsoul she hears Sooyoung holler _hey ladykiller_ in the background. Jungeun appreciates the support from the most esteemed lesbian she knows.)

It’s easy to be with her, even if it doesn’t feel like a forever kind of thing.

(A tiny traitorous part of her brain keeps wondering if it’s only easy to be with her _because_ she doesn’t make Jungeun’s heart race. Not like Jinsoul does. If it’s easy to be with her because her kisses feel like just kisses — even when they kiss after a date, when they kiss in the backseat of Tzuyu’s car, when they kiss hidden under the blankets on Tzuyu’s bed — when one kiss in a cupboard with Jinsoul made her feel like she was doused in gasoline and set alight. But hey, Tzuyu’s only the second person Jungeun’s ever kissed. It’s only natural that she compares her to Jinsoul, right?)

It’s easy enough that when the break-up comes, Jungeun isn’t too surprised.

Everything about their relationship is still good — great, even — but it’s begun to feel stale and drawn-out. Like they’re both waiting for something new to happen, only it never does because neither of them really make the effort to.

It still stings a little when Tzuyu is eventually the one to bring it up, because it’s her first break-up, but deep down Jungeun had been thinking the same thing. Besides, Tzuyu’s going back to Taiwan for university, Jungeun’s going to Seoul, and she’s pretty sure neither of them are cut out for long distance.

It’s refreshing to discover that love doesn’t always have to hurt or end in heartbreak. Sometimes things just run their course and come to an end naturally, and that’s okay.

Jungeun is going to be okay.

Jungeun is moving to Seoul in two months and she’s terrified that distance hasn’t lessened the hold Jinsoul has always had on her, but she’ll be okay.

  
  


**NOW.**

Life goes on. Days pass. And then a week. October turns into November turns into December.

They’re still friends, but Jungeun barely sees Jinsoul anymore.

They’re both at the Halloween party hosted by Sana and Momo, but there’s enough people there that Jungeun can tactfully avoid interacting directly with Jinsoul, before she slips out just after 1AM. Jungeun catches a cold two days before Momo’s birthday so she doesn’t join the group in going out to some dance club in Hongdae, and Jinsoul isn’t there for Hyunjin’s birthday because she’s in Cheongju over the weekend for Chaewon’s birthday. They still see each other in passing, at kickbacks or movie nights with the others, or when Jungeun is grabbing coffee with Heejin before her next class and Hyunjin will show up with Jinsoul tagging along, or when Jiwoo turns up to their study sessions with both Sooyoung and Jinsoul in tow. But it’s not the same.

They get lunch once, just the two of them, in late November, and it’s the most awkward forty minutes of Jungeun’s life. It doesn’t feel like getting lunch with her best friend, with the person who knows her better than anyone else in the world. There’s too many long silences, moments which are usually filled with Jinsoul rambling about her classes or a new Gundam she’s assembling or whatever Sooyoung’s done lately to annoy her and Jungeun talking about her photography portfolio or her new favourite drama or Jiwoo’s latest semi-successful attempts at proving she can be a self-sufficient baker.

The gap between them feels more than just physical; Jungeun can practically feel the red string between them growing taut and straining from being tugged in two opposite directions.

They don’t really hang out just the two of them after that.

Although conveniently, It helps that exam time is creeping up, so Jungeun sees less of everyone in general since there’s less time for congregating Jinsoul and Sooyoung’s apartment to get drunk and more time is spent ingesting worrying amounts of Monster and Red Bull while hyperventilating in the library. Even the perpetually put together Joohyun looks a little frazzled when Jungeun bumps into her in the campus coffee shop a few days into December.

“Don’t go to grad school, it’s not worth it,” Joohyun tells her, and then proceeds to chug the entirety of her triple shot americano in about three seconds flat. Her iced americano. In December.

Despite everything, Jungeun gets through her exams with minimal crying, submitting her final portfolio with a full six hours left to spare and only one existential crisis of questioning if she really is on the right path and not just wasting four years getting a useless degree she isn’t going to do anything with.

So everything’s fine. Jungeun is fine. She’s still hopelessly in love with her best friend and their friendship is still the most strained it’s ever been and they’re still not really talking, but apart from that, everything is just fine.

/

Two days after the exam period is concluded, Jungeun, Jiwoo, Heejin, Hyunjin and Ryujin pile into the front row of the auditorium for the dance team’s winter showcase.

As always, it’s a sight to behold. There’s a group performance first, all twelve members of the team jumping around the stage in perfect synchronization. Joohyun and Seulgi have a vaguely homoerotic duet to a dubstep heavy instrumental. Mina has a ballet solo, something from Swan Lake according to the very official looking program Hyunjin has acquired from somewhere. Chaeryeong and Chaeyeon duet to an upbeat jazz song, and Yeji and Bora duet on a hip-hop song. Another group performance. Another solo, this time Lisa dancing to a Nicki Minaj song. Sana, Momo and Mina do a very energetic cover of a Japanese group that Jungeun vaguely recognises. Jinsoul and Sooyoung do a duet to an EXO song. And another group performance to close it out.

Everybody is great, but the only one Jungeun sees is Jinsoul.

(Really, she’s only ever been looking at Jinsoul.)

Jungeun’s seen her dance a thousand times, but it never gets any less mesmerising. It occurs to her, sitting there in the audience watching Jinsoul glide around the stage as fluidly as water, that she could meet Jinsoul again for the first time a hundred different times in a hundred different realities, and every time she would feel the same. Every version of her would feel the same for every version of Jinsoul. Every time she would be utterly helpless to resist the magnet hidden in her chest, in between her ribs and her heart, that pulls her towards Jinsoul.

Her heart has made up its mind, hasn’t it? Maybe it was made up back in June, when Jinsoul tackled Jungeun to her bed and asked if she could kiss her. Maybe it was made up even earlier, when an empty soju bottle decreed that Jungeun and Jinsoul would be locked in a closet for seven minutes. Or maybe it was made up years and years ago, the first time Jungeun first saw Jinsoul at the snack table at Heejin’s birthday, when Jinsoul smiled at her and took her hand and led Jungeun under the camellia tree, led Jungeun into her life.

It’s been a long time since she’s been in Heejin’s backyard. She wonders if the tree is still there, lit up crimson in autumn.

After the showcase has ended to riotous applause and deafening cheering, the five of them are allowed backstage to congratulate the others.

Jiwoo almost bowls Sooyoung over by leaping into her arms like a tiny human cannonball. Ryujin is presenting a bouquet of red roses to an equally red Yeji. Seulgi is hugging everyone, and a teary-eyed Joohyun is being consoled by her sister. Heejin and Hyunijn immediately accost Sana, Momo and Mina to shower praise on their trio performance.

Amidst all the chaos and crying and hugging, Jinsoul sidles up to Jungeun.

“I didn’t think I’d see you here,” she admits quietly.

Instantly, Jungeun is hit with a wave of guilt. Things might still be weird and tense between them, despite Jinsoul’s assurance that if they stopped when they did then things _wouldn’t_ get weird and tense, but Jungeun didn’t realise that their friendship had apparently degraded enough that Jinsoul wasn’t expecting Jungeun to show up to support her in something she’s been working on for months.

“You’re my best friend,” Jungeun says. Maybe if she says the word friend enough then her stupid lovesick heart will finally take a hint. “Of course I’m here.”

Jungeun doesn’t remember the last time she was this close to Jinsoul. That one awkward lunch? When they decided to just stay friends? Or when Jinsoul was pushing her down onto the bed and kissing her like it meant something?

But they don’t do that anymore. They don’t really do anything anymore.

“Am I?” Jinsoul asks. “Still your best friend? Because it hasn’t felt like that recently.”

That wave of guilt sours into irritation. Okay, _yes,_ Jungeun has been avoiding Jinsoul, but communication is a two-way street and Jinsoul hasn’t exactly made much of an effort either.

Before she can say anything and potentially kickstart the first real argument they’ve ever had, right there in front of everyone, a solid weight crashes into her side as Seulgi ungracefully barges between them and throws an arm around her shoulder.

“Hi, you made it!” Seulgi grins cheerfully, completely oblivious to the moment she’s just interrupted. “Jinsoul’s been all mopey the past few weeks cause you’ve been too busy to pay attention to her.”

Jinsoul, trapped under Seulgi’s other arm, flushes slightly. “Shut up.”

“Respect your elders,” Seulgi retorts.

“Shut up, _unnie,_ ” Jinsoul grumbles.

“No, I don’t think I will,” Seulgi says, ignoring Jinsoul’s huffing and turning back to Jungeun. “We’re all going for drinks at La Rouge to celebrate. Got a booth reserved and everything. You’re coming, right?”

“I—” Jungeun hesitates, glancing past Seulgi to look at Jinsoul. Jinsoul refuses to look at her, staring at the floor instead. Beyond both of them, Joohyun has stopped crying long enough to notice Seulgi having taken Jungeun and Jinsoul hostage, watching the three of them with an unreadable look on her face. Joohyun’s always been eerily perceptive, and Jungeun wonders who else has noticed the sudden rift between her and Jinsoul. If Seulgi, who is known for being a little oblivious sometimes, has picked up on Jinsoul’s apparent moping then she’s willing to bet Joohyun isn’t the only other one to have noticed.

“I don’t hear a _yes of course unnie_ yet,” Seulgi pouts. “Come on, I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“Sure,” Jungeun says weakly. Seulgi’s pout is kind of hard to say no to.

Jinsoul still won’t look at her.

A few hours later, Jungeun finds herself wedged between Heejin and Seulgi in a booth close to the bar, a bright pink cocktail complete with a blue umbrella, several maraschino cherries and a curly straw sitting in front of her, wishing she was anywhere but here.

At first, it hadn’t been too bad. The dance team had all dispersed, gone home to shower and get changed, everyone had reconvened at La Rouge, a trendy cocktail bar in Myeongdong, and the drinks had started flowing quickly enough.

Jiwoo and Sooyoung in particular are very drunk, Jiwoo sitting on Sooyoung’s lap in the corner of the booth, making out in a way that’s just toeing the edge of public indecency. Sana and Momo are borderline dry-humping on the dance floor, which finally answers _that_ question. Lisa’s already vanished with a girl that, from across the bar, looked a bit like the Park Chaeyoung that Jungeun knew in high school.

And then Hyunjin asks, “Hey, who’s that guy Jinsoul-unnie’s talking to?” and everything starts to go downhill.

“Oh, that’s Seungwoo-oppa,” Seulgi says, referring to the guy with dyed purple hair that Jinsoul’s giggling with at the bar. “He’s the captain of the guys dance team.”

 _Seungwoo._ Jungeun feels numb, and she can’t look away as Jinsoul laughs and puts her hand on Seungwoo’s shoulder. It’s awful, and she wants to look away, but she can’t. Like a car crash.

“Isn’t that like, fraternising with the enemy?”

“I always forget there’s a straight girl on this dance team.”

“How very Romeo and Juliet of them.”

“Wait, Jinsoul-unnie’s kind of a serial dater, right? But she hasn’t blown up the group chat talking about some cute guy who asked her out in, like, months...”

“Do you think they’re dating?”

“Now that you mention it, they have been spending a lot of time together recently.”

Jungeun hears it all like she’s underwater. She knows they’re all talking, can hear them theorising, but it’s distant. Far away. Distorted. All she can focus on is the way Jinsoul smiles at something Seungwoo says, and the way something sharp embeds itself in her chest.

Is this... new? Or has Seungwoo been a thing for a while? It’s not like Jungeun and Jinsoul were anything remotely resembling exclusive, they never even acknowledged it was happening until Jungeun blurted out _I think we should stop,_ so for all Jungeun knows Seungwoo could’ve been a _thing_ the entire time Jungeun thought she was the _only thing._

The half of the pink cocktail Jungeun’s already drank churns in her stomach. She’s so stupid.

Before, whenever a cute guy has asked Jinsoul out, Jungeun has always been notified three seconds later by way of a text laden with emojis and exclamation marks. Now, for the first time since Heesu asked Jinsoul out, Jungeun has no idea if she’s seeing anyone.

“Jungeun?”

Jungeun blinks, resurfaces, and realises there’s several pairs of eyes on her. “Huh?”

“Is Jinsoul dating Seungwoo?”

“I don’t know,” Jungeun says, ignoring the sidelong glance she gets from Heejin. She knows it probably seems weird that she of all people, Jinsoul’s best friend, is just as in the dark about the status of Jinsoul’s love life as the rest of them, but she’s too caught off-guard to come up with something particularly convincing. “I mean, she hasn’t said anything to me. Not yet at least.”

Logically, Jungeun knew this would happen eventually. Jinsoul hasn’t dated anyone seriously in almost a year, not since she and Seokmin broke up, but with a girl like Jinsoul, someone who has so much love to give, her being single is never going to last that long.

So this is nothing new. Just another one of Jinsoul’s relationships, slowly coming to life right in front of her. Seungwoo is hardly the first guy she’s had to watch Jinsoul fawn all over. She’s spent her whole life on the sidelines watching Jinsoul fall in love with a different boy each month. She’s used to it.

That doesn’t mean it doesn’t still hurt.

“Maybe they’re just taking it slow.”

“Seungwoo-oppa is cute, Jinsoul-unnie has good taste. You know, if you’re into that sort of thing, I guess.”

“You mean men?”

“Yeah.”

Jungeun mutters something about going to the bathroom, and scrambles out of the booth, making sure she has her phone and jacket with her. She doesn’t go to the bathroom. Instead, she heads for the exit. Outside, she texts Heejin — seemingly the most sober out of everyone — that she doesn’t feel well and she’s going home.

And then she leaves.

  
  


**THEN.**

Jungeun settles into her new life in Seoul surprisingly easily.

Her roommate hits on her within five minutes of introducing herself, and after a slightly bizarre conversation where Jungeun confirms that _no_ she’s not straight, _no_ she doesn’t have a girlfriend, and _no_ she isn’t hung up on some straight girl crush (potentially a lie), Jungeun decides that she could probably do a lot worse for a roommate than Shin Ryujin.

Her daily routine is mostly the same as it was back in Cheongju: wake up, shower and have breakfast, get the subway to campus, go to class. Rinse and repeat. Her evenings are evenly split between studying and spending time with one or more of her friends. The people sharing her photography major mostly seem nice as well; on the first day she befriends two of them, Yoohyeon and Gahyeon, with whom she shares the majority of her classes.

Jungeun has never felt particularly inclined to expand her social circle that much beyond Jinsoul, Jiwoo, Heejin and Haseul, but over her first few months in Seoul, she begrudgingly gets used to that circle getting bigger. Along with Yoohyeon and Gahyeon, Jungeun acquires a few other new friends.

There’s Ryujin, obviously. She’s a lot more extroverted than Jungeun, and along with Jinsoul manages to coax Jungeun out of the shell she retreated back into a little bit when she first arrived in Seoul, but she’s just as happy to stay in their surprisingly homey dorm room, order takeout and watch a movie as she is dragging Jungeun out to some party a senior she knows is throwing or to some bar where the bouncers are lax about checking IDs. Ryujin is nice, funny, doesn’t snore, and she keeps her side of the room spotless. Jungeun’s definitely lucked out in the roommate department.

(Jiwoo’s roommate is one of those types who spends her nights with her boyfriend or at a friend’s off-campus apartment, so Jiwoo basically has a double room all to herself. In a strange role reversal, Jiwoo is thrilled about the privacy and the peace and quiet, but Jungeun is quite glad she’s stuck with Ryujin. It’s nice, comforting even, to have someone to come back to each evening, someone to talk to about her day.)

With Ryujin comes Yeji, who looks intimidating but turns out to be one of the kindest people Jungeun’s ever met. Where Ryujin is loud and affectionate, Yeji is thankfully a bit calmer and seems to possess most of the common sense of the duo.

(In her slightly more inebriated moments, Jungeun sometimes thinks Ryujin and herself could make a good couple — Ryujin’s cute and they get along well — if it weren’t for the unfortunate fact that both of them are already in love with someone else. Ryujin looks at Yeji like she hung the stars in the sky, and Jungeun wonders how Yeji can’t possibly see it.)

Heejin introduces them to her roommate Hyunjin, who seems a little aloof at first but quickly reveals herself to be very sweet, despite her slightly bizarre sense of humour. Her personality is quite similar to Jinsoul’s, and Jungeun isn’t too surprised when Jinsoul and Hyunjin click almost immediately. And the crush that Heejin very quickly develops on Hyunjin appears to be reciprocated if the shy smiles and sidelong glances they keep exchanging when they think no one is looking are any indication.

And then there’s Jinsoul’s friends. She’s familiar with Sooyoung already, of course, and despite the lingering jealousy from the previous year, Jungeun slowly warms up to her.

It helps that Jinsoul and Sooyoung have upgraded from the university dorms to a surprisingly spacious two bedroom apartment close to campus. It’s probably bigger than Jungeun, Jiwoo and Heejin’s respective dorms combined, so it kind of becomes the designated place for them all to hang out, none of them really taking Jinsoul’s threats to start charging them rent seriously.

It _also_ helps that Sooyoung’s slightly arrogant aura and air of needing to be the coolest person in the room at all times is dispelled the first time Jungeun actually meets her in person, when Sooyoung comes barging into Jinsoul’s room without realising Jungeun is there, cramming what looks like an entire burrito into her mouth and saying around a mouthful of crumbs, “Hey watch this, Momo bet me I couldn’t eat this in two bites.”

Jiwoo and Sooyoung get introduced at the late housewarming party that Jinsoul and Sooyoung host a few weeks into the first semester, and Jungeun watches with gleeful amusement as notorious chatterbox Kim Jiwoo is struck speechless for possibly the first time in her life.

Their wide-eyed introductions at the beginning of the party have progressed to the two of them tucked away in the corner of the living room, flirting nervously in that way where they think nobody has noticed but really everybody actually has. Jiwoo looks incredibly flustered every time Sooyoung laughs or touches her arm, but Sooyoung doesn’t appear to be faring much better if the dazed look on her face whenever Jiwoo gives her one of her megawatt smiles is any indication.

“This is hilarious,” Heejin snickers. “Look how red she is.”

Jiwoo’s face is a particularly vivid shade of pink, probably due to the crop top Sooyoung is wearing. Jungeun can almost hear the static inside Jiwoo’s head as she valiantly attempts to keep her eyes on Sooyoung’s face. At least Sooyoung isn’t wearing one of her leather jackets. That might actually kill Jiwoo.

“Which one?” Jinsoul snorts. “They’re both blushing.”

Instead of her usual mischievous, slightly haughty expression, Sooyoung looks like she’s fallen into some kind of trance.

“I cannot believe _Kim Jiwoo_ of all people is going to be the one to tame your heartbreaker fuckgirl of a roommate,” Jungeun says, struggling to hold back her laughter when Jiwoo starts visibly swooning.

“ _Former_ heartbreaker fuckgirl,” Jinsoul says. “Look at those hearts in her eyes. I give it a week at the most before she asks Jiwoo out.”

“Unless Jiwoo gets there first.”

“Are we sure that’s a good idea?” Heejin says. “I mean, don’t get me wrong Sooyoung-unnie seems great and everything, but you know what Jiwoo’s like. She falls in love with a different girl every week, and Sooyoung, well— is kind of the exact opposite of that. I don’t want to see Jiwoo get hurt.”

All three of them look back to where Jiwoo and Sooyoung are gazing at each other like they’re the only two people in the room. Jungeun has seen that exact stunned look on Jiwoo’s face many times before, whenever she finds herself face-to-face with a pretty girl and promptly swan dives head over heels into her next crush.

Sooyoung looks exactly the same.

Jinsoul chuckles. “I don’t think we have anything to worry about.”

Most of Jinsoul and Sooyoung’s friends from the dance team are also at the party, and while being introduced to that many people at once is a little overwhelming, some of them stand out enough for Jungeun to take a liking to them.

Kang Seulgi is a name Jungeun has heard plenty of times already from Jinsoul, and the real person is just as sweet as the picture Jungeun had painted in her head. Seulgi’s studying photography, same as Jungeun, so they immediately strike up a friendship.

“Can I have her back yet?” Jinsoul pouts, after being ignored for a few minutes while Jungeun questions Seulgi about what the next four years of her life are going to entail, and Seulgi gives her advice as best she can.

“No,” Seulgi says cheerfully, putting an arm around Jungeun. “She’s mine now.”

Jungeun’s first impression of Joohyun is that she’s terrifying. Her second impression is that she’s not actually that terrifying, because no one that scary could possibly be dating a goofball like Seulgi. Her third impression is that Joohyun is incredibly charming, so much so that Jungeun has a bit of trouble stringing a sentence together when Joohyun smiles at her and asks Jinsoul if Jungeun is the best friend she’s apparently heard so much about.

“I’ve never seen you gay panic before,” a delighted Jinsoul says once Joohyun is (hopefully) out of earshot.

“Shut up.”

“Is that your type then?” Jinsoul giggles. “The ones who look like they could kill you?”

“I’m going to kill _you_ if you don’t stop laughing.”

They’re the co-captains of the dance team, and they’re also the oldest — Seulgi’s a year older than Jinsoul and Joohyun’s in her final year of undergrad before she goes to law school — so Jungeun isn’t too surprised to discover they’re probably the most functional ones out of all of Jinsoul’s friends.

Sana and Momo, two Japanese girls who moved to Korea together for university and according to Jinsoul come as a package deal (but are just friends? Maybe? Jinsoul isn’t sure either, when Jungeun questions her about it), both seem very enthusiastic to meet Jungeun, since apparently Jinsoul never shuts up about her.

“ _This_ is Jungeun?” Sana asks in excitement. “As in _the_ Jungeun that you’ve somehow found a way to mention in every conversation we’ve had for the past year?”

“She’s just as cute as you said she was,” Momo coos, ruffling a very surprised Jungeun’s hair.

Jinsoul goes slightly pink, and tugs Jungeun away very quickly.

“You talk about me?” Jungeun asks, amused.

“Of course I do,” Jinsoul grumbles. “You’re my best friend. My favourite person. Why wouldn’t I talk about you?”

It’s a little much, especially when Seulgi gives her a big bear hug when they leave despite them only meeting for the first time a few hours prior or when Sana pinches her cheek like some kind of affectionate grandma, but the casual acceptance from everyone makes Jungeun feel warm inside. All of Jinsoul’s friends seem to like her, no one treating her like the annoying younger sibling just tagging along to a party like a small insecure part of Jungeun was scared would happen.

It takes a while to get used to. Jungeun feels different, more free, more grown up. Seoul is huge, hectic, nonstop, a far cry from the sleepy suburbs of Cheongju where everybody knows everybody. In Seoul, every day she meets someone new that she’ll never meet again and every day a stranger will meet Jungeun and then never think about her again. 

Little by little, Jungeun gets used to everything; to university classes, to her social circle abruptly doubling over the course of one party, to living independently, to her newfound freedom, to coexisting with Jinsoul again.

Although that last one is a little more difficult than the others.

It isn’t like the last year of Jungeun’s life was completely Jinsoul-free; she took a day trip to Seoul with Jiwoo and Heejin to visit Jinsoul once when Sooyoung was in Busan, and Jinsoul still came back to Cheongju for holidays and birthdays and weekend visits, but with seventy miles between them it gave Jungeun time and space to adjust to being apart from the intoxicating presence of her best friend. It allowed Jungeun to very convincingly fool herself into believing that Jinsoul didn’t have quite such a tight hold on her heart, that these persistent feelings that have been lingering for years were merely teenage infatuation.

So moving to Seoul, and going back to having the majority of her free time filled with _Jinsoul, Jinsoul, Jinsoul,_ and feeling something stirring behind her ribs like it’s being slowly roused from sleep at the first sight of Jinsoul’s grinning face waiting for her when Jungeun first climbed out of her parents car in front of the university dorms, is quite a harsh reminder that while she can attempt to give her love to other people, Jinsoul is still the one her foolish heart has decided it wants.

But it’s fine. Jungeun can ignore it, she’s sure of it.

If she could control and ignore it in Cheongju, then there’s no reason she can’t control and ignore it here in Seoul.

  
  


**NOW.**

Sometimes Jungeun wonders if everybody knows she’s in love with Jinsoul and just doesn’t want to say anything, the same way everybody avoids talking about Ryujin and Yeji.

Jiwoo probably has a hunch, if she’s being honest. Maybe Heejin too, since they’ve known Jungeun the longest and know her the best after Jinsoul. Sooyoung’s always had some kind of eerie sixth sense when it comes to deeply buried personal things like this, so Jungeun wouldn’t be surprised if she had figured it out too.

Still, none of them have ever directly questioned her about it, and so Jungeun’s inconvenient feelings have been mostly left untouched and ignored as they slowly grew over the years.

“You know,” Jiwoo says casually. “I’m getting tired of you lying to me about Jinsoul.”

Apparently, Jiwoo is the one who wants to change that. Right now. With a wrecking ball straight through all of the walls Jungeun’s built up around those feelings.

They’re in Cheongju for Christmas; Jungeun, Jinsoul, Jiwoo and Heejin. Haseul’s flown back for the holidays too, and she’s coming with them to Seoul to ring in the New Year at one of Joohyun and Seulgi’s legendary parties. Jiwoo had called, complaining about how mind-numbingly boring their suburb is compared to Seoul, and so she came over armed with snacks and they cuddled up on Jungeun’s bed to watch a movie. And then Jiwoo had asked if Jungeun was okay, because apparently _you’ve seemed a little off recently,_ and Jungeun said she was _fine, just the stress of finals, you know?_ and then Jiwoo said _you know you can tell me anything right_ which had so blatantly been some kind of trap that Jungeun just said _I know_ and hoped Jiwoo would drop it.

Jiwoo had not dropped it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Jungie, no,” Jiwoo sighs. “Don’t do that, don’t shut me out.”

Jungeun refuses to say anything, and Jiwoo gives up all pretense of paying attention to the movie, turning so she’s looking straight at Jungeun.

“I’m not stupid, alright?” Jiwoo says. “I know you, and I know Jinsoul, and I can tell when you’re not talking to each other. I wasn’t going to say anything, I was waiting until you came to me yourself, but it doesn’t seem like you’re gonna do that.” Jungeun stays quiet, staring straight ahead at the television. Jiwoo sighs again. “I hate seeing you both like this. You can’t just expect me to sit back and watch two of the people I love most in the world be so sad without each other.”

It isn’t very often that Jiwoo gets serious. It’s kind of unnerving, and Jungeun’s a little scared, because Jiwoo has a way of making Jungeun spill all her secrets.

“It’s nothing, okay? It was just— we just had a stupid little fight,” Jungeun lies, glancing briefly at Jiwoo. “I know we’re making things awkward now, but we’ll be fine eventually.”

“You’ve been avoiding each other for weeks over ‘nothing’?”

Jiwoo’s phone lights up in between them. A message from a contact saved as _future wife_ followed by about seven heart emojis. Jiwoo doesn’t even glance at it, which is how Jungeun knows Jiwoo isn’t backing down without a fight, because she doesn’t ignore Sooyoung for anything.

“Jungie,” Jiwoo says softly. “What happened?”

Where does Jungeun even begin? When they first met? When she first realised that while Jinsoul was looking at Heesu she was looking at Jinsoul? Their first kiss? The second? The third? That night in October that was the stupidest thing Jungeun has ever done in her life?

“Jungie?”

Jungeun turns away, knowing that if she looks at Jiwoo’s concerned face for too long she’ll break and spill everything, and her gaze lands on the photo frame sitting on her nightstand. It’s one of those big ones that’s split into smaller frames to hold multiple photos, part of her birthday present from Jinsoul last year.

There’s three photos slotted into it: one of ten year old Jungeun and Jinsoul at Everland, ice cream cones clutched in one hand and arms slung around each other; one of seventeen year old Jungeun and Jinsoul at a football game during high school, Jinsoul in her cheerleading outfit and Jungeun wearing Jinsoul’s varsity jacket that’s slightly too big for her; and one of nineteen year old Jungeun and Jinsoul from the first time Jinsoul dragged Jungeun out drinking in Seoul, in the booth of some bar near the university, Jungeun’s head on Jinsoul’s shoulder and Jinsoul grinning and holding up a peace sign.

At the sight of the photo frame, a representation of how long Jinsoul’s been the most important part of her life, something in Jungeun’s chest cracks and overflows. She’s too old to remember the first one being taken, the second one Jungeun only really remembers how damn cold it was that night, and the third one is a little blurry thanks to all the drinks Jungeun’s fake ID got her, but Jungeun knows without a doubt that she’s happiest when she’s with Jinsoul. It’s everything she wants, and nothing that she has.

“Jiwooming,” Jungeun whispers shakily. “I fucked up.”

Jungeun feels the bed move, hears Jiwoo sit up, and then her comforting warmth is wrapped around Jungeun, and the dam just breaks. One second she’s fine, and the next there are tears streaming down her face and she’s sobbing into Jiwoo’s shoulder. It all comes pouring out around sniffles and sobs and half-choked hiccups of breath. She tells Jiwoo everything, right from the beginning, feeling every wall she’s built to protect her heart crumbling around her.

When she’s done, it still hurts, that dull ache in her chest is still there, but it feels like there’s a weight dropped off her shoulders. After holding everything in for so long, it’s a relief to finally let it all out, especially to someone like Jiwoo who knows Jungeun like the back of her hand, who won’t judge her, who will just be there for her.

Once Jungeun has calmed down and her breathing has returned to normal, the first thing Jiwoo asks is, “Does she know? How you feel?”

“Does it matter?” Jungeun sniffles. “She’s over it already.”

Jiwoo pauses for a moment. “Are you sure?”

(The day before the four of them get the train back to Cheongju, Jungeun is walking back from her last shift at work before going home for the holidays, when she sees Jinsoul and Seungwoo. On a date.

There’s a little bakery near her apartment that she frequents, and she’s intending on stopping by to pick up some hot chocolate and one of the almond croissants she likes, but she sees them before she can actually step inside.

They’re sitting in one of the corner tables by the window, two steaming mugs and a slice of red velvet cake with two plastic forks sitting on the table between them. Jinsoul has her back to the window, so Jungeun can’t see her face, but she can see Seungwoo. He’s not looking anywhere but at Jinsoul, smiling widely at something she’s saying.

Jungeun takes her hand off the door, turns around and leaves.)

“Yeah,” Jungeun says. “I’m sure.”

“Have you even talked to her?” Jiwoo asks, continuing before Jungeun can object. “ _Really_ talked to her, I mean. Not just a two minute conversation with half the dance team eavesdropping?”

“It isn’t that simple.”

“Yes it is,” Jiwoo says, like she really believes that. “Talk to her. Tell her how you feel.”

Jungeun laughs, a hysterical high-pitched yelp. “Uh, no. I’d rather die than lose her, which is what will most certainly happen if I tell her I’ve been in love with her for half my life.”

“You don’t know that you’ll lose her.”

“No, but I know that I might, and that’s enough,” Jungeun says. “Twelve years. We’ve been best friends for twelve years, Jiwoo. That’s a lot of time to potentially ruin in the span of one moment.”

“It’s also a lot of time to keep it all bottled up,” Jiwoo points out, and Jungeun doesn’t have a response to that.

 _Is it really that bad?_ A destructive voice whispers in her head. _To keep holding on to her like that? To keep hoping?_

It’s not bad, no. But it’s not healthy. Being in love with someone who so clearly isn’t going to love her back, and clinging desperately onto it for so long. That’s no way to live. It’s not fair or either of them.

So Jungeun needs to do it, needs to shut off that part of her once and for all, to finally stop wanting something that’s never meant to belong to her. She needs to stop hoping, and finally start moving on. Just like Jinsoul has.

After all, things can’t stay like this forever, right? It’ll be fine.

Eventually.

It’ll hurt for a while, probably a long while, but eventually Jungeun will be able to look at Jinsoul without feeling like somebody has cracked open her ribcage and carved a hole right into her heart.

Someday. Just not right now.

(Unless things don’t go back to normal. Unless this weird awful limbo doesn’t pass, and Jinsoul decides she can’t stay friends with someone who’s so obviously in love with her and friend-dumps Jungeun, and then Jungeun will spend the rest of her stupid pathetic life alone because her stupid pathetic heart doesn’t know how to love anybody other than Jinsoul.)

No, things can’t stay this way permanently. Jungeun will survive. She’ll get through this.

“Things won’t be like this forever, Wooming. I promise,” Jungeun says, giving Jiwoo a weak smile. “Really, sleeping with her was like a wake-up call. One that I’ve been needing for a long time now. Jinsoul and I had sex, nothing changed, she said she wanted to just be friends—” Jungeun ignores the waver in her voice, and thankfully Jiwoo does too. “—so she clearly doesn’t feel the same. It sucks, but I’ll be okay eventually. I just need a bit more time to get over it, to get over her, and then Jinsoul and I will go back to normal, and everything will be okay again.”

“If you say so,” Jiwoo says, sounding doubtful, but she at least drops the subject.

It takes Jungeun a long time to fall asleep later, after they’ve finished the movie and Jungeun has thrown spare pyjamas at Jiwoo and told her not to snore or hog the blankets.

_Talk to her. Tell her how you feel._

Jungeun rolls over, looks at Jiwoo’s dumb sleeping face. Her bangs are a mess and she’s drooling on Jungeun’s pillow. She’s also snoring and hogging the blankets. She takes a photo of her and sends it to Sooyoung, who replies a few minutes later with a string of heart eyes emojis and _tell her I love her when she wakes up please._ Like a cute, gross, domestic couple in love. 

_Talk to her. Tell her how you feel._

Like what another version of Jungeun has with Jinsoul, somewhere in another world, another lifetime. Surely somewhere, there has to be a universe where Jungeun and Jinsoul worked out perfectly. It just doesn’t happen to be this one.

_Talk to her. Tell her how you feel._

Eventually, Jungeun manages to drift off to sleep with Jiwoo’s voice bouncing around her head, leaving havoc in its wake.

_Talk to her. Tell her how you feel._

Like it’s that easy.

  
  


**THEN.**

His name is Seokmin.

He’s tall, blond, a psychology student who’s friends with Joohyun, and Jinsoul is completely enamoured.

They meet at a party in the first week of June, and by the second week they’re exclusive.

Jungeun wants to hate Seokmin for being able to steal Jinsoul’s heart in a way that Jungeun never could, but it’s hard to dislike him. He’s hopelessly smitten with Jinsoul, and Jungeun can’t really blame him for that.

The jealousy comes in stronger waves than it did when Jinsoul was dating Heesu, and this time they’re accompanied by pangs of hurt; sharp stabbing aches in her chest whenever Jinsoul lights up and smiles at Seokmin, because Jinsoul has never looked at her that way. Not once.

God, there’s really no helping it, is there? No way to stop the pull of Jinsoul’s gravity, no way to stop how Jungeun is drawn towards the bright beautiful light that is Jung Jinsoul. Even after a year apart, even after Jungeun had loved someone else, even after she thought she had managed to forget the warmth of it, she can’t escape it.

But Jinsoul has a boyfriend, and boundaries need to be set. So she plasters on a convincing smile and puts on an award-winning performance, acting like her chest isn’t constricting painfully whenever Jinsoul talks about Seokmin. If Jinsoul is happy, then as her best friend and nothing more, Jungeun can suck it up, push it down, and be happy for her. Even if she feels another crack in her heart every time she sees Jinsoul lean up to kiss her boyfriend.

She is Jinsoul’s friend, just like Jiwoo and Heejin and Haseul and Sooyoung are Jinsoul’s friends. It’s the only way Jinsoul is ever going to see her, is ever going to want her, and the sooner Jungeun’s stupid lovesick heart realises that, the easier her life will be.

/

Alcohol, as the college version of Jungeun is coming to discover, works as a very good distraction to watching Jinsoul fawn all over her latest boyfriend. So when Ryujin asks her if she wants to come to a party that evening, Jungeun stops scrolling through Netflix and says yes.

Jungeun doesn’t know whose apartment she’s in, but there’s plenty of alcohol to go about, the music is good, and most of her friends are around somewhere.

Jinsoul’s with Seokmin, Jiwoo and Sooyoung have vanished, Ryujin is flirting with a cute red haired girl, Heejin and Hyunjin have advanced from gazing longingly at each other to actually holding hands where they’re cuddled up together on one of the sofas. None of which Jungeun wants to interrupt.

She’s in the living room, trying not to look in the direction of the kitchen, where Jinsoul is tucked under one of Seokmin’s enormous biceps, when someone appears beside her.

“Hey,” the person, a girl that Jungeun faintly recognises from somewhere, says with a friendly smile. “Jungeun, right? You work at The Cheshire Cat?”

Jungeun gives the stranger a suspicious look. She’s only been working at the little café for a month, after she very quickly discovered how fast her bank account depletes now that she doesn’t have her parents to buy all the groceries, but she didn’t think that would be long enough to acquire a potential stalker.

“I’m Seungyeon, I’m Seunghee’s roommate and part time babysitter,” the girl— Seungyeon says, referring to one of Jungeun’s coworkers. “I think you’ve served me a few times when I’ve come in to try and get free drinks from her.”

“You’re the one that ordered that over-caffeinated abomination a few weeks ago, aren’t you?” Jungeun says, recognition beginning to dawn on her the longer she squints at Seungyeon. “The caramel frappe blast but with, what was it, five shots of espresso? And three extra pumps of caramel that came to like ten thousand won?”

“Yeah, that was me,” Seungyeon says proudly. “I had two essays due that evening that I hadn’t started so I ordered that, poured half a can of Monster into it and then shotgunned the whole thing. I could hear colours for a few hours and the comedown after was ten times worse than any hangover I’ve had, but I got an A on both papers, so.”

“Glad to be of service,” Jungeun chuckles. “Even though I probably broke some kind of food safety law making that thing.”

“Worth it.” Seungyeon shrugs, taking the opportunity to inch a bit closer to Jungeun. “You here on your own?”

“Sort of, I came with my roommate and some friends but they’ve all...” Jungeun trails off, waving her hand in the general direction of the party. “You know.”

“Yeah, I do know,” Seungyeon laughs. “Seunghee dragged me here so I could be her wingwoman for some girl she’s convinced is her soulmate, but it became pretty clear after like five minutes that she really does not need my help.”

There's a few moments where neither of them say anything, before Jungeun feels Seungyeon glancing at her.

“So, uh.” Seungyeon clears her throat. “You want to dance?”

Jungeun isn’t stupid. They’re at a party and Seungyeon, who is cute, (possibly?) into girls, and (presumably) single, is asking Jungeun, also cute (depending on the lighting), into girls, and single, if she wants to dance. The friendly smile on her face has slipped into something a little closer to a smirk, and Jungeun has had enough to drink that her inhibitions are a little lower than usual.

Unconsciously, Jungeun glances over towards the kitchen. Jinsoul and Seokmin are still in the same place, only now they’re kissing. Seokmin has his big hands on Jinsoul’s waist and Jinsoul is giggling against his mouth, looking happier than Jungeun’s ever seen her.

Jungeun has sort of begrudgingly accepted that a part of her is always going to be in love with Jinsoul. She’s loved Jinsoul for so long now it’s almost become a part of her, part of her life, part of her daily routine. But she’s slowly realising that she can love other people too. She loved Tzuyu. Maybe not the same scale or scope as her love for Jinsoul, but it was there, Jungeun is sure of it.

So maybe, just _maybe,_ if Jungeun starts giving her heart to other people, eventually there will be nothing left for Jinsoul to take.

Maybe Seungyeon is just looking for a fun one night thing. Maybe she’s looking for more. Maybe Seungyeon is the person that Jungeun could grow to love. Maybe, maybe, maybe. Jungeun will never know if she doesn’t try stepping out of Jinsoul’s shadow.

“Sure,” Jungeun says, draining her cup of vodka and mango juice and dumping it on the table next to her. Seungyeon grins, holding out her hand. With one final glance towards Jinsoul, who is far too busy looking at Seokmin to look at Jungeun, she takes Seungyeon’s hand and lets herself be pulled out into the crowd.

  
  


**NOW.**

It’s New Year’s Eve, and with the exception of the train ride to and from Cheongju, Jungeun hasn’t spoken to Jinsoul since the night of the dance showcase.

Not because she doesn’t want to, but because every time she opens her KakaoTalk chat with Jinsoul she gets halfway through typing before realising she doesn’t even know how to talk to Jinsoul anymore.

_Do you want to get lunch—_

_How was your Christmas—_

_I miss you so much—_

She deletes all of them, and then shoves her phone into her pocket or under her pillow. Somewhere out of sight.

Jungeun doesn’t even want to go to the stupid party Joohyun and Seulgi are throwing tonight.

She would be more than content to just stay in her apartment, binge watching both seasons of _Love Live!_ from under a mountain of blankets and inhaling her body weight in ice cream, rather than spend the evening surrounded by happy stable couples doing things like kissing at midnight and cuddling while watching the fireworks and _not_ sleeping with their best friend who they’ve been in love with for ages.

She says as much to Ryujin — well, she paraphrases slightly — who just hums in response since she’s obviously not listening, before she seems to notice that Jungeun is still in sweatpants and a hoodie at five in the afternoon and that she’s serious about not going.

Ryujin just looks at her silently and a little judgmentally before typing something on her phone, and then fifteen minutes later Heejin (and her biceps) and Hyunjin (and her intimidating blank stare) show up to threaten Jungeun until she agrees to unwrap herself from her cocoon of blankets on the sofa and get dressed.

It probably won’t even be that bad, Jungeun tries to reason with herself as Hyunjin manhandles her into a taxi an hour later, like they’re still concerned Jungeun will try and make a break for it like an escaped convict. Parties thrown by Joohyun and Seulgi are always packed, so it’s not like it’s just their small group; there’s the entire dance crew, the entire boys dance crew, all of Joohyun’s grad school friends and Seulgi’s older college friends, Sana and Momo’s Japanese squad, Hyunjin’s theatre friends, Haseul is bringing Kahei, Ryujin and Yeji are bringing some of their friends, and Jiwoo knows like, everyone, so.

There will be food and music and alcohol, so Jungeun can just show up for long enough to be considered polite, spend her time avoiding Jinsoul and _Seungwoo_ , distract herself with all her other friends that she’s not in love with, and then she can leave just after the countdown and go home. She can suck it up for the sake of her friends, who don’t need Jungeun to bring the mood down on what’s supposed to be a night of celebration because she’s too busy moping.

It’ll be fine.

Who knows. She might even have fun.

/

Jungeun knows the second she trails after Heejin, Hyunjin and Ryujin into Joohyun and Seulgi’s apartment that she is _not_ going to have fun, because the first thing she sees is Jinsoul. And not just Jinsoul, but _Jinsoul-and-Seungwoo._

They’re with a group of people that Jungeun doesn’t recognise, presumably some of Joohyun’s friends or guys from the dance team. Seungwoo has bright purple hair that’s easy enough to spot from a distance, and Jinsoul is standing next to him, her hair loose and wavy, wearing a backless black dress that makes Jungeun’s breath catch in her throat.

It’s quite impressive really, the way her stupid heart has been battered so many times and yet still manages to speed up at the sight of Jinsoul. The apartment is full of people, noisy with the sound of chatter and one of Seulgi’s twelve-hour party playlists, but when Jinsoul turns her head, catches sight of Jungeun through the crowd and gives her an unsure, tentative smile, it’s like the rest of the world melts away.

And then Jinsoul’s attention is captured by Seungwoo, and Joohyun pops up out of nowhere to shove a very full champagne flute into Jungeun’s hand, and the world comes back into focus. When she looks back over at Jinsoul, she’s laughing at something Seungwoo said, leaning into his side.

Jungeun takes a large gulp of champagne, and follows Heejin, Hyunjin and Ryujin into the kitchen.

A few hours later, after Jungeun has had a few more glasses of the seemingly endless supply of Joohyun’s expensive champagne and a few fruity mixed drinks, she reluctantly admits to herself that she’s actually having a good time.

11PM comes and goes, a buzz of excitement rippling through the room when somebody drunkenly yells that there’s only one hour to midnight. Jungeun has found herself one of the sofas, Haseul and Kahei on one side, Jiwoo and Heejin on the other. Kahei is talking animatedly about the dog her brother just adopted, complete with photos on her phone that has the three of them enraptured. Hyunjin’s getting herself and Heejin refills on their drinks, and the last time Jungeun saw Sooyoung she was talking to Jinsoul, the two of them huddled together outside on the balcony.

She isn’t sure where Jinsoul and Sooyoung are now. It feels strange, being surrounded by all of her friends except one, being in the same room as Jinsoul and having to actively fight the urge to seek her out. Jinsoul has been drifting between different people all night — Joohyun and Seulgi, people she knows from her own classes, Seungwoo and his friends — and every time Jungeun has caught sight of her through the crowd, she’s had a smile on her face.

Jungeun doesn’t even really feel jealous. Watching them makes it more real, somehow. Watching Jinsoul laugh at something Seungwoo says, mouth wide open and nose scrunched up as she slaps at Seungwoo’s arm, now that she knows what it’s like to have Jinsoul clinging to her and whispering for Jungeun to touch her in between messy kisses, it doesn’t hurt as much as Jungeun thought it would. Maybe it’s some kind of self-preservation attempt from her body, turning off whatever neurotransmitters in her brain deal with emotional pain, or maybe it’s just her heart finally catching up and accepting something that deep down Jungeun already knew.

Jinsoul doesn’t love her.

It’s fine. Well, it’s not, not really, but things will be okay eventually. Maybe not for a long time, but someday. Someday she’ll get her best friend back. Someday it won’t hurt so much to look at Jinsoul.

Around her, the party continues.

Hyunjin reappears with drinks. Joohyun comes breezing past with a fresh bottle of champagne to top everyone up. Jungeun spots Jinsoul again, taking selfies with Sana near the hallway. Ryujin and Yeji—

Oh.

Ryujin and Yeji are kissing. They’re outside on the balcony, half-hidden by a huge potted plant in the corner, and Jungeun wouldn’t even have seen them if it weren’t for the moonlight reflecting off Yeji’s silver hair. 

Ryujin’s hands are cupping Yeji’s face as they exchange soft kisses, Yeji’s arms wrapped around Ryujin’s waist. Jungeun isn’t an expert, but it doesn’t look like it’s the first time this is happening. Ryujin is smiling into the kiss, and when Yeji pulls back to laugh and say something to her, neither of them look nervous at all.

Suddenly the artsy photo of some mistletoe accompanied by a string of heart eyes emojis and the flexing bicep emoji on Ryujin’s Instagram story a few days ago makes sense.

“Hey, look,” Jungeun says, nudging Jiwoo and nodding towards the balcony. 

Jiwoo actually clasps her hands in front of her chest and _aww_ s loudly enough to draw Heejin’s attention away from the puppy video playing on Kahei’s phone. “It’s about time.”

Heejin frowns, looking at the time on her phone. “There’s still fifteen minutes left. They’re early.”

Jungeun watches Ryujin say something that makes Yeji laugh, before leaning forward and kissing her again. “I’d say they’re a few years late, actually.”

It hasn’t really occurred to her until this exact moment that out of everyone, she’s the only one who’s still single. Haseul has Kahei, Jiwoo has Sooyoung, Heejin has Hyunjin, Ryujin (finally) has Yeji, Joohyun has Seulgi. Even Sana and Momo are sort of like, official now, rather than just hooking up when they’re drunk and pretending it doesn’t mean anything. And Jinsoul has Seungwoo.

(Jinsoul always has someone, and that someone has never been and is never going to be Jungeun.)

As the clock ticks closer and closer to midnight, everyone starts pairing off. Sooyoung comes and steals Jiwoo away. Heejin is cuddled up to Hyunjin on the sofa, Haseul sitting in Kahei’s lap next to them. Joohyun and Seulgi are giggling to themselves on the other side of the room. Ryujin and Yeji have slipped back inside, cheeks pink from the cold and holding hands, and Jinsoul and Seungwoo are... somewhere. Probably. Jungeun doesn’t really want to look for them.

The room suddenly seems a lot stuffier than it was a few seconds ago.

“Hey,” Jungeun says, putting her drink down and nudging Haseul. “I’m going out for some air. Won’t be long.”

“Everything alright?” Haseul asks, ever the concerned friend.

Jungeun nods, forcing a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just— a lot of people, you know. I’ll be back before midnight, don’t worry.”

Joohyun’s penthouse spans the entire top floor of the building, so once she’s out the door it’s only one flight of stairs up to the roof. Jungeun isn’t sure people are technically allowed up here, but Joohyun’s brought them up before plenty of times, so Jungeun doesn’t really think twice about slipping through the door to the roof clearly displaying a no entry sign. Although now that she’s thinking about it, she’s pretty sure Seulgi mentioned something once about Joohyun’s family owning the entire building, so she can do whatever she wants.

Rich people.

It’s started snowing at some point during the evening, giving the world that strange hush that only happens when everything is hidden under a blanket of white. There’s no one else on the rooftop, and the streets below are deserted; Joohyun’s building is just far enough from downtown that there’s no bars around with people spilling out of the door, and everyone else in the neighbourhood is inside, celebrating in their own homes.

It’s freezing outside, her breath clouding in front of her every time she breathes out. Jungeun kind of wishes she’d brought her jacket with her, or at least a hat, since she’s probably going to end up breaking her promise to Haseul about being back before the countdown starts.

A tiny part of Jungeun kind of hopes that once it does start, Jinsoul will come bursting through the door behind her, like something out of one of the more exaggerated dramas or romcoms she likes. But that isn’t going to happen. Jinsoul’s going to be inside, with her boyfriend, and in three minutes she’s going to kiss him at midnight, starting the new year together.

Jungeun leans against the railing, staring out at the snow-covered city. Seoul has always been breathtaking this high up in the sky, all the neon lights glittering and gleaming as far as the eye can see, and tonight is no exception.

Jungeun glances at the time at her phone. One minute left.

Time ticks forward.

In the distance, she can hear people chanting as the ten second countdown begins.

_Ten, nine, eight._

A loud cheer goes up from the balcony of a packed apartment across the street. 

_Seven, six, five._

Downstairs in Joohyun’s apartment, the music gets louder, the bass pulsing out of an open window.

_Four, three, two._

Halfway across Seoul, the fireworks begin to shoot up into the sky, bright colours bursting open on the dark canvas. 

_One._ The date on her phone screen changes from December 31st to January 1st, the clock changing from 23:59 to 00:00. The entire city seems to roar underneath the fireworks.

Jungeun’s still alone.

She’ll give it a few more minutes before she goes back in. Give everyone some time to get their soppy couple moments that Jungeun has no interest in witnessing out of the way and hopefully by then the bubbly champagne will have been replaced with some actual alcohol.

(Seulgi’s been looking longingly at a litre bottle of tequila she’s acquired from somewhere since about 10PM, Joohyun taking it off her for the reason of, “I want things to stay classy until at least midnight, and I don’t want anybody throwing up in my favourite potted plant _again,_ ” while directing a pointed glare in her sister’s direction.)

Behind her, the door to the roof squeaks open.

Jungeun’s expecting Haseul, possibly Joohyun, coming to chew her out for missing the countdown. Maybe Jiwoo, if she’s not too distracted by Sooyoung.

She isn’t expecting Jinsoul.

She has a cosy looking black peacoat on over her dress, and she’s holding Jungeun’s fur-lined leather jacket in her hands as she crosses the roof with a slightly irritated look on her face.

“Are you crazy?” Jinsoul huffs, shoving the jacket into Jungeun’s hands when she comes to a stop in front of her. “What are you trying to do, intentionally give yourself frostbite?”

“Sorry,” Jungeun mutters, slipping her arms through the sleeves and bringing the jacket around her shoulders. At least she’s a bit warmer now, even though she can feel herself beginning to panic slightly.

She can’t be left alone with Jinsoul. She _can’t._ Jinsoul’s presence has always made her forget herself, made her too reckless, too stupid, too weak, and a two month drought has done absolutely nothing to lessen the effect her best friend has on her.

If anything, it’s made it worse, because even now, after everything, there’s a small, self-destructive part of Jungeun that desperately wants to push Jinsoul against the railing and kiss her until she can’t breathe. There’s an even smaller, slightly deluded part of her that thinks Jinsoul might even let her. And that kind of stupid wishful thinking needs to stop, because Jinsoul doesn’t want her.

“Wow,” Jinsoul murmurs, looking out over the city. “I always forget how incredible the view is from up here.”

“Being friends with a borderline chaebol heir has its perks,” Jungeun says, pulling her jacket tighter around herself.

They’re both quiet for a few moments, until Jinsoul breaks the silence.

“I want to apologise,” she says, her voice surprisingly shaky.

Which is— not what Jungeun was expecting.

“What? What for?”

“For... God, for everything, I guess.”

“What?” Jungeun says again.

Jinsoul sighs, turning to face Jungeun, and Jungeun is taken aback by how _sad_ Jinsoul looks. “Jungie, we’ve been friends for twelve years. And yeah, we’ve had fights and disagreements, but not like this. You’ve never gone out of your way to avoid me, and definitely not for this long. You’ve never shut me out like this. So, I’m sorry. For— you know. But I’ll fix it, okay? I know I fucked up but just... I’ll fix this.”

Jungeun blinks, her confusion growing by the minute. “You didn’t— what makes you think you fucked up?”

“Uh, because I did? Because I’m the one who—” Jinsoul’s voice cracks, and she looks away, clenching her jaw and swallowing visibly. “I mean, I tried making things better, when you stopped by the dance studio, but I think that just made everything worse. Like, that lunch we had last month? That wasn’t us, Jungie, that was— that was like two strangers who just happened to be sitting at the same table. And now you can’t even look at me, and we haven’t spoken in weeks, and it’s all my fault, and—”

“Soul,” Jungeun says, cutting Jinsoul off, and God, how long has it been since she said that nickname? Since she last heard the fond way Jinsoul says _Jungie_? “This isn’t your fault.”

“But it is,” Jinsoul sniffles. “I didn’t— I never meant for you to find out. I didn’t mean to make things so complicated.”

The more Jinsoul speaks, the more lost Jungeun is.

“What?”

Jinsoul breaks their eye contact again, looking down at the twin trails of footprints in the snow.

“And I— I get it, that you don’t feel the same, and that’s fine, that’s— it’s okay, I’ll get over it eventually. I can give you whatever you need, space or time or whatever, but I don’t— I can’t lose you as a friend, Jungie, you’re too important to me.”

 _You don’t feel the same._ Jungeun knows Jinsoul kept talking after that, but she barely hears her. Her brain just gets stuck on those five words, replaying them back and forth inside her head, because _what?_

It had been very clear very quickly that they weren’t quite on the same page, but now Jungeun is beginning to suspect that they’re having entirely different conversations altogether.

“Jinsoul,” Jungeun says quietly. “What are you talking about?”

Jinsoul still won’t look at her. “You know what I’m talking about.”

“No, I don’t. I really, really don’t.”

There’s a long, torturous moment, and Jungeun watches Jinsoul, equally desperate and scared for Jinsoul to explain. She’s trying not to get her hopes up, maybe she’s misinterpreted, maybe she misheard, maybe she’s dreaming—

“I know you don’t love me.” Jinsoul finally glances up, a tiny, sad smile on her face. “Not like that, at least. Not like I love you.”

Jungeun’s brain kind of just... stalls, and then shuts down completely. Her entire body might have shut down. She can’t move. She can’t feel the cold anymore. She can barely even breathe.

“What?” Jungeun somehow manages to get out. “What are you— what about Seungwoo?”

Jinsoul blinks. “Um, what about him?”

“You’re— you’re dating him.”

Jinsoul does not react the way Jungeun thinks she will. She doesn’t immediately retract her confession, mutter something about getting back to her boyfriend and go running back downstairs to the party. Instead, she presses her lips together, the way she does when she’s struggling not to laugh at inappropriate moments.

“Jungeun,” Jinsoul says. “I’m not dating Seungwoo.”

What? “What?”

“I don’t think his boyfriend would be too pleased about that if I was.”

Boyfriend? “Boyfriend?”

“Yeah. Seungwoo’s gay. I mean, I don’t want to like, stereotype or whatever, but his hair? That’s a really gay shade of purple.”

Every time Jungeun thinks she’s got a grasp on this conversation, Jinsoul says something that sends it spinning away in a completely different direction.

“He’s very much in love with his best friend, who he got together with like a week ago after pining over him for literal years,” Jinsoul says with an amused smile. “It’s why we started hanging out, actually. Both dance teams went out for a Christmas dinner thing a few weeks ago and we got to talking. He told me he’s in love with his oblivious best friend, and I said _oh hey what a coincidence, so am I,_ and we like, bonded. Misery loves company and everything.”

“Oh,” Jungeun says weakly.

Jungeun is still not entirely convinced she isn’t dreaming. Maybe someone spiked her drink at the party and she’s actually passed out on Joohyun and Seulgi’s bed. Maybe she fell off the roof and she’s actually lying in a hospital bed in a coma. Either option seems more plausible than Jinsoul, the girl she’s been in love with for years, the girl she never thought would love her back, standing in front of Jungeun and telling her that she loves her.

“You— you love me.”

Jinsoul nods. “Yeah. I, um. I don’t even know for how long, or when it started but I’m pretty sure Seokmin figured it out before I did.” Jinsoul chuckles in a kind of self-deprecating way. “That’s why we broke— well, that’s why _he_ broke up with _me._ He said he felt like he was always going to be competing with you, and he was always going to come in second.”

 _This isn’t going to work, Jungeun-ah,_ Seungyeon’s sad voice echoes in Jungeun’s head, _not when you’re always looking at her the way you should be looking at me._

“I thought— I thought you knew,” Jinsoul continues, sounding slightly terrified. “I thought that’s why you were gone the next morning. That you’d figured it out and you didn’t want to like, lead me on or whatever. And then when you and Jiwoo came by the studio and you said you wanted to stop, I assumed that was your way of letting me down gently, so I just... went along with it.”

“That’s not why I left,” Jungeun says.

“Then why did you?”

Jungeun swallows, trying to get rid of the lump in her throat. “Because I was scared,” she says, ignoring how her voice pitches up the way it always does when she’s getting close to tears. “We’ve been best friends for so long, you’re my favourite person in the whole world, and I thought I’d ruined everything, so I got scared and I ran.”

“How could you ruin it?”

“Because I—” Jungeun pauses, overwhelmed by the number of moments and memories that immediately take flight in her mind. There’s a thousand different ways Jungeun could go about detailing how and when and why she fell in love with Jinsoul, years and years worth of lingering glances and secret kisses and heart-stopping moments where Jungeun felt far too much, but really, all those different paths lead to the same conclusion. “Because I love you. Because I’m in love with you, and I have been for years.”

Jungeun said it. She finally said it, finally set free this thing she’s been keeping caged up in her chest since she was sixteen years old in Park Chaeyoung’s hall closet, since she was eight years old under the camellia tree in Jeon Heejin’s backyard, letting it take flight and soar up into the sky to shine brighter than the fireworks.

“I— what?” Jinsoul squeaks. “Years?”

“I don't even know when it started. Probably the day we first met? And then it just grew over time. I loved you when we were kids, when we were teenagers, I love you now. I think it was probably in different ways, and I could forget about it sometimes— when I was with other people I wouldn’t feel it as much, I guess. But I don’t think I ever really stopped.” Jungeun pauses to breathe, to try and will away the tears she can feel brimming in her eyes. Her throat hurts, voice raw with emotion. Now that she’s started talking she can’t stop, and it just keeps pouring out like a waterfall. “I thought _you_ knew, so I ran that morning because I didn’t want to be there when you woke up and realised what a mistake you’d made. And then when I saw you at the studio I just— I panicked. I thought you’d figured out how I felt and you were going to break it off, so I did it first, before you could. Try and retain a tiny scrap of dignity.”

“It wasn’t— I never thought of it as a mistake,” Jinsoul says, and the hurt edge to her voice hits Jungeun right in the heart, sending another wave of guilt rushing through her. “I could never think of you like that.”

“I should probably be apologising too,” Jungeun says. “I shouldn’t have just assumed I knew how you were feeling, I shouldn’t have ran away like a coward, but I just thought— I thought you were straight. You’ve always been straight. You’ve never said anything about girls the entire time I’ve known you and then suddenly you’re pushing me down and asking to kiss me. I thought it was just some kind of fun experimenting for you—”

“Experimenting?” Jinsoul interrupts, eyebrows furrowed together. “Do you really think I would just use you like that?”

That uncomfortable feeling of guilt amplifies. “No, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Then what did you mean?”

“I— I don’t even know.” Jungeun sighs, her breath clouding in front of her. “I just convinced myself that it wasn’t real for you. And then it went too far, and you realised it wasn’t just some _fun with a straight girl_ for me, and you got uncomfortable. I’m sorry for assuming it didn’t mean anything to you, I just—” Jungeun shrugs helplessly. “I thought you were straight.”

“Yeah, I thought I was too,” Jinsoul laughs weakly. “I don’t know. I think I knew for a while, but I stopped trying to ignore it last year. After— after Seokmin. I knew I still liked boys, and I thought I liked girls but— I don’t know, I just kept doubting it. Half the time it didn’t even feel real. I didn’t feel real. I mean, logically I knew bisexuality was a thing, a totally valid thing, but when it came to myself, I don’t know, it just took me a long time to figure out that I didn’t have to choose.”

Inside her jacket pocket, Jungeun unclenches one of her hands from where it had closed into a tight fist, and reaches out to take Jinsoul’s hand. Neither of them are wearing gloves, and her hand is cold to the touch, but it sends sparks shooting through Jungeun’s bloodstream all the same.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jungeun asks softly, heart aching at the conflicted look on Jinsoul’s face. “You could’ve talked to me.”

Jinsoul gives her a sad smile. “No, I couldn’t. Not when I was having all these confusing feelings about you.” Jinsoul chuckles, looking down at where their fingers are linked together. ”God, I know it’s stupid— you’re a lesbian, Sooyoung’s a lesbian, Jiwoo, Heejin, Hyunjin, even _Haseul_ ended up with a girlfriend, I don’t know why it took me so long to come to terms with this. I don’t know why I was so scared of coming out to you.”

“It’s not stupid. I’ve been there, remember? I know how it feels. Just because it was easy for me doesn’t mean it is for everybody. There’s no time limit on figuring this out,” Jungeun says, squeezing Jinsoul’s cold hand and giving her an encouraging smile when she looks back up. “And besides, you’re here now, aren’t you? I’m proud of you, unnie.”

A fond smile slips onto Jinsoul’s face. “How is it that you always know exactly what to say to make me feel better?”

“Because I know you,” Jungeun says, running her thumb across the back of Jinsoul’s hand, over the bumps of her knuckles. “Because I am an expert on all things Jung Jinsoul, so I know what I’m talking about. I’ve had how many years of practice?”

Jinsoul squeezes her hand. “I love you.”

Jungeun’s breath catches in her throat. She’s wanted this for so long, and after finally getting it after years and years of assuming it’s never going to happen, it doesn’t feel real.

“This is— you’re serious, right? I know you wouldn’t actually be a dick and joke about something like this but I just— kind of need to hear you say that you’re serious.”

“It’s not a joke,” Jinsoul says immediately, reaching out and taking Jungeun’s other hand out of her pocket to hold it. “I love you. Trust me, I’ve had like, over a year to think about this, so I’m definitely serious. This is probably the most serious I’ve ever been in my whole life.” She pauses for a moment. “I love you.”

Ten million people in Seoul, fifty-two million in South Korea, seven billion in the whole world, and Jinsoul loves _her._

Jinsoul loves her. This is somebody who has seen the uglier sides of Jungeun, has seen her at her worst, has seen her sick, hungover, crying, throwing a tantrum, has seen all of her faults and flaws, and loves her anyway. Jinsoul loves her.

“I love you too,” Jungeun says, and it’s such a rush of euphoria being able to say it after holding it back for years. She’s still not convinced she won’t start crying. She’s definitely close to it, hovering on that precipice where it would barely take anything to tip her over the cliff’s edge.

Jinsoul takes a step closer, closing the distance between them. There’s snowflakes caught in her hair, little specks of white standing out against the black. Her cheeks are tinged pink from the cold air, and she’s smiling at Jungeun like there’s nothing and no one else she'd rather be looking at. Even when they have the kind of view of downtown Seoul that can only be afforded by someone excessively wealthy, even when there’s freshly fallen snow blanketing the rooftop and the buildings and the streets, even when there’s fireworks exploding overhead, Jinsoul is only looking at her.

“We’re both kind of dumb, aren’t we?” Jinsoul chuckles.

Jungeun laughs, letting go of Jinsoul's hands so she can curl her fingers into the lapels of Jinsoul’s coat and pull her the last few inches forward. “The stupidest.”

Jinsoul’s hands cup her face, her fingers stroking over Jungeun’s cold cheeks. There’s a long moment where they just linger, like time has frozen at a standstill and the rest of the world disappears, before Jinsoul’s lips are pressed against her own.

It’s soft and it’s sweet and it’s _real._

Jungeun sinks into the kiss automatically, like her body’s already figured out what it wants and her brain is just trying to catch up. Jungeun tilts her head, kisses her a little deeper, and Jinsoul makes a tiny soft noise into her mouth. She gets lost in it; while it’s still snowing and the party's still going downstairs and the rest of the city is celebrating loudly around them, she keeps kissing Jinsoul.

She doesn’t know how long they spend like that, exchanging sweet, innocent kisses like whispered secrets, but eventually Jungeun pulls back a little. Not enough for them to separate entirely, but enough that she can gasp for air.

Jinsoul chases after her immediately, kissing the tip of her nose, her forehead, kissing away the wet tracks on her cheeks when the tears eventually spill out before guiding their mouths back together.

Their foreheads bump together when Jinsoul tugs her closer a little too harshly, and Jinsoul yelps when Jungeun slides her hands under her coat and accidentally brushes her cold fingers against her back. It’s clumsy and messy; her cheeks are damp and her nose is cold and they're giggling too much that it’s not even really a proper kiss anymore, but Jungeun’s just so happy to hear Jinsoul’s laugh again after so long without it.

“I missed you,” Jinsoul murmurs, her breath warm against Jungeun’s mouth. “I feel like I don’t work properly without you.”

Jungeun surges forward and wraps her arms around Jinsoul, burying her face into the crook of her neck and breathing in the sweet scent of cherry blossoms. Jinsoul’s arms slip around her waist, holding her tightly as Jinsoul kisses the top of her head. She’s trembling slightly, and Jungeun isn’t sure if she’s crying or laughing. She’s pretty sure _she’s_ still crying and ruining her makeup while she’s at it, and it’s still freezing and Jungeun’s fingers are starting to go numb even hidden in Jinsoul’s coat, but it’s alright.

It’s alright because Jinsoul loves her.

“Yeah, me neither.”

“I love you,” Jinsoul mumbles into her hair. “I’m sorry it took me so long to catch up.”

“You’re here now. Better late than never,” Jungeun says, leaning up to catch Jinsoul’s mouth in a quick kiss. “I love you too.”

They stay cuddled together for a little while longer, watching the snow and the last of the fireworks. Until it starts to get actually, worryingly cold, and Jungeun starts shivering, slightly concerned her fingers might start dropping off one by one if they stay out any longer.

“Jinsoul?” Jungeun’s voice is slightly muffled where she still has her face shoved into Jinsoul’s coat.

“Mm?”

“Can we go back inside? I can’t feel my fingers. Or toes.”

“God, neither can I,” Jinsoul laughs. “I know this is like, romantic and everything, but I think I’m about to go into hypothermic shock.”

Jungeun detaches herself from Jinsoul, lifting her hand to brush some stray snowflakes out of her hair. She wants to kiss her again, now that she can do that whenever she wants, but Jungeun knows that if she does then they’ll just get lost in each other again, and frostbite is starting to look like a horrifyingly realistic possibility.

“Okay. Let’s go inside before we both actually die,” Jungeun says, taking Jinsoul’s hand and leading her back towards the door. “Besides, I have some questions for Ryujin and Yeji. I saw them kissing on the balcony earlier.”

“Wait, really?” Jinsoul’s expression morphs from shock to admiration to concern very fast. “Do you think we just stole their thunder?”

Jungeun laughs. “Probably.”

When they sneak back into Joohyun’s warm and toasty apartment, still holding hands, Sooyoung is the first one to spot them and she promptly wolf whistles loud enough to gain half the room’s attention.

“Fuckin’ finally,” Sooyoung says, but she’s smiling, looking pointedly at their joined hands. “Took you two long enough. I didn’t know how much more of the painfully obvious pining I could take.”

“Sooyoung!” Jiwoo scolds, smacking her girlfriend on the shoulder. “Congratulations,” she continues, beaming at Jungeun and Jinsoul while ignoring Sooyoung’s squawk of protest. “I’m so glad you guys figured it out. I mean, there was kind of a lot of pining.”

“Oh, so you can point it out but I can’t?” Sooyoung grumbles, but it’s drowned out by Heejin shrieking like a damn banshee.

“What? What the _hell?_ ” Heejin squeaks, staring open-mouthed at them. “Jungeun and Jinsoul-unnie? How long has this been going on?” She jerks around to glare at a sulking Sooyoung. “Wait, what do you mean _finally,_ did you know? Did everyone know? Am I the only one who didn’t?” She turns to Hyunjin. “Did _you_ know about this?”

Hyunjin stares blankly at her. “Are you blind? Like, clinically?”

“Okay, so that’s a yes,” Heejin says, unfazed, and then jumps onto Jungeun and Jinsoul, pulling them both into a hug.

Jinsoul looks a little dazed when Heejin eventually releases them from her death grip, skipping off to find more champagne to celebrate this _momentously gay occasion_ , and it only occurs to Jungeun then that this isn’t just them coming out to their friends as a couple (?), this is Jinsoul coming out in general.

“You okay?” Jungeun asks quietly, squeezing Jinsoul’s hand. “This isn’t too much for you, right?”

Jinsoul squeezes back, and shoots her a breathtaking smile. “No, I’m good. I’m great.” Jinsoul darts forward, giving Jungeun a quick kiss right in front of everybody. “You’re great.”

“Oh God,” Sooyoung groans, shuffling over on the sofa so a red-faced Jungeun and a very smug Jinsoul can squeeze in next to her. “Are we going to have to put up with this all the time now?”

“No, we know how to behave in public,” Jungeun grumbles, right as Jinsoul says, “Oh, definitely.”

“Sorry,” Jinsoul continues with a grin, not sounding sorry in the slightest. She wraps an arm around Jungeun and pulls her closer so she’s tucked into her side and under her arm. “Better get used to it now, bitch. I’ve spent _hours_ listening to you talk about how cute Jiwoo is, and how happy Jiwoo makes you, and how Jiwoo’s voice sounds like angels singing, and how much you love Jiwoo—”

“Jung Jinsoul your days are fucking numbered,” Sooyoung mutters, her ears going red as everyone around them hoots with laughter.

“—so now it’s your turn. And I’ve been holding this back for ages, so I hope you’ve got plenty of spare time to listen to me talk about how cute Jungeun is.”

Sooyoung rolls her eyes, her frown softening into a smile when Jiwoo kisses her on the cheek. Haseul laughs, while Kahei gives them an affectionate smile. Hyunjin fist bumps both of them. Jiwoo unsubtly takes a photo of them when Jinsoul kisses Jungeun’s temple and promptly sends it to the group chat with the caption _#lovewins,_ five crying emojis and the rainbow flag emoji. And then Heejin reappears with an unopened bottle of champagne, which has at least three people shooting to their feet in concern, because the last time someone (Jungeun) allowed Heejin to try and open a corked bottle, it led to one of Jinsoul’s (limited edition) Gundams being annihilated by the cork pinging across the room.

Ignoring their squabbling over the bottle, Jinsoul leans closer to Jungeun, lowering her voice so no one can eavesdrop. “Do you want to get out of here soon?” She says, her mouth brushing against the shell of Jungeun’s ear. “Not like right now, but later, just so we can—”

“Yes,” Jungeun says, placing her hand very deliberately on Jinsoul’s thigh, right over where the hem of her dress sits.

Jinsoul clears her throat, her cheeks going slightly pink. “Okay.”

/

(They leave the party just after 2AM, holding hands and exchanging unsubtle heated glances in the back of the taxi, and the door to Jinsoul’s apartment is barely shut behind them before they’re crashing into each other.

It catches up with Jungeun all at once then, everything she has been missing, everything she has been trying so hard to forget, and it feels like every piece in the universe is falling into place as Jinsoul crowds her against the door and kisses her so deeply it’s like Jungeun’s whole body melts into her.

It feels like drowning in Jinsoul, in breathless gasps and feverish kisses and hands that leave a trail of liquid fire everywhere they touch, surging over her and submerging her underwater. It feels like her entire body has been holding its breath waiting for this, waiting to feel Jinsoul’s touch again, waiting to hear Jinsoul whimper Jungeun’s name again, waiting to taste Jinsoul’s lips again, and now she can finally exhale.

They don’t stop kissing as they fumble with coats and scarves and shoes, and they don’t stop kissing as they slowly make their way down the hallway, and they don’t stop kissing as they stumble into Jinsoul’s bedroom.

“We don’t— have to do anything,” Jinsoul mutters, completely contradicting herself by bringing her fingers to the top button of Jungeun’s shirt and popping it open. “If you don’t want to.” The second button comes undone, and then the third. “We can just sleep.” The fourth, the fifth, and then the rest of them until her shirt is wide open and Jinsoul’s palms are searing against her waist. “You know, take it slow this time.”

“Slow,” Jungeun laughs, like she hasn’t been waiting for this for _years._ Her hands tighten in Jinsoul’s hair when Jinsoul’s nails drag across her skin. “I mean, I am a fifth date kind of girl, you know. And we haven’t even been on one yet.”

The back of Jungeun’s knees hit the bed, and she tumbles onto the mattress with a soft _oof._ Jinsoul stares at her hungrily for long enough that the tingle low in Jungeun’s stomach grows into an insistent tug before she follows, climbing onto the bed and settling in Jungeun’s lap.

“Okay,” Jinsoul says with a grin. “We can take it slow.”

And then she peels her dress up and off in one fluid motion and tosses it behind her, and Jungeun promptly forgets how to breathe. Slow is the absolute last thing on her mind when she has Jinsoul straddling her, all toned abs and soft skin and dark eyes, looking down at her with a mischievous smirk, just waiting for Jungeun to make the next move.

And Jungeun does, reaching up to drag Jinsoul down. “Touch me,” she whispers in between frantic kisses. “Please.”

She feels Jinsoul smile against her mouth. “Thought you’d never ask.”)

/

The first thing Jungeun becomes aware of is that her toes are cold.

The second is that she can hear muffled voices, Jiwoo and Sooyoung’s, somewhere in the apartment, which must have been what woke her up — she’s always been cursed to be a light sleeper.

The third is that the amount of light bleeding into the room on the other side of her closed eyelids indicates it’s late enough into the morning that she should probably get up.

However, Jungeun has a pretty good reason to stay exactly where she is, and that reason is curled against her back, face buried in the back of Jungeun’s neck with one arm wrapped tightly around Jungeun’s waist.

Jungeun stretches underneath the blanket, wiggling her feet until her cold toes are safely tucked back underneath the heavy fabric. Her muscles and limbs feel loose and heavy, a faint residual ache present through her whole body but most prominent in her thighs and hips, her skin thrumming from the phantom sensation of Jinsoul’s mouth and fingers.

Jinsoul’s still fast asleep, her breathing slow and deep and steady. Her fingers twitch against Jungeun’s stomach every now and then, and her body is warm where it’s pressed against the length of Jungeun’s back.

Jungeun’s phone lights up on the nightstand with a text from Jiwoo, just close enough that Jungeun can reach it to look at the screen without disturbing Jinsoul.

 **Pingu 🐧  
** hiii!  
sooyoungie and i just got home, we’re going to make pancakes if you and soul are awake and want to join us!  
*3*

Jungeun ignores it; she definitely doesn’t plan on moving anytime soon. Jiwoo and Sooyoung and pancakes can wait.

She dozes on and off for about fifty minutes, listening to the sound of Jinsoul’s breathing and Jiwoo and Sooyoung pottering about in the kitchen, before Jinsoul begins to stir behind her.

“Mmph,” Jinsoul mumbles into Jungeun’s hair, her voice still thick with sleep. “Morning.”

“Morning.”

Jinsoul yawns, her arm tightening around Jungeun’s middle.

“You’re still here,” Jinsoul murmurs after a few moments of peaceful quiet, sounding a bit more awake now.

Jungeun turns over in Jinsoul’s arms so they’re facing each other, a few inches of space between them on the pillow. She doesn’t really want to put any more distance between them; the past few months have given her enough of that, along with a Jinsoul-shaped hole in her heart.

Jinsoul’s hair is sticking up everywhere and her face is all red and puffy from sleep as she blinks groggily at Jungeun, but it’s still the best thing Jungeun has ever seen, something she wouldn’t mind getting to wake up to every morning.

“Did you think I wouldn’t be?”

Jinsoul shifts, and then her hand appears from under the blankets, lifting to cup Jungeun’s face and gently sweep her thumb across her cheekbone. “I guess even after everything last night, there was still a tiny part of me that was scared you would be gone again.”

Jungeun catches Jinsoul’s hand as it retreats, pressing a kiss to her open palm before turning it over and kissing her knuckles.

“I don’t plan on going anywhere,” Jungeun says, dropping another kiss to the back of Jinsoul’s hands and letting it linger for a few seconds.

A fond smile slowly forms on Jinsoul’s face. She twists her hand until she can intertwine them properly, her fingers slotting in between Jungeun’s perfectly like their hands were molded for each other. “Me neither.”

“Yeah?” Jungeun asks shakily.

Yeah,” Jinsoul repeats, leaning forward to press her own lips to the back of Jungeun’s hand softly. “I am all in, I promise. I want this, I want you. For as long as you’ll have me.”

In this moment, Jungeun can feel that Jinsoul-shaped hole in her heart stitching itself closed and beginning to scar over. 

“Yeah, me too.”

Their hands separate, only for Jinsoul to scoot forward so she can snuggle closer to Jungeun. Jinsoul is bigger than her, but she feels strangely small as she tucks herself into Jungeun’s arms and presses her face into the juncture of Jungeun’s neck. She wants to capture this content feeling of warmth in her memory, keep it like a photograph that she can take out and look at whenever they’re apart.

“I love you,” Jinsoul mumbles against her neck.

Jungeun sighs happily, angles her head down so she can kiss Jinsoul’s forehead. “I love you too.”

Something bursts open inside her chest. That single seed, planted twelve years ago in Heejin’s back yard that has slowly flourished over the years despite Jungeun’s best attempts to rip it out at the roots, blooming like cherry blossoms in the spring. Into something new. Into something great.

  
  


**ONE YEAR LATER**

It’s a running joke between everyone that Joohyun and Seulgi take any excuse to throw a party. Or a _get-together._ Or a _soirée._ The nomenclature usually depends on how many people are present and how expensive the champagne Joohyun decides to bestow upon them is.

Usually the reasons are perfectly valid; New Year’s Eve, someone’s birthday, Halloween, graduation. Sometimes they’re clearly just an excuse for Joohyun and Seulgi to have people over and get drunk; a trivia night, Seulgi’s favourite idol group had a comeback after five years of inactivity, it’s Friday and Joohyun is bored.

This time happens to be the former; an engagement party, after Seulgi proposed to Joohyun on New Year’s Eve while they were in Ansan over the holidays.

Somehow, despite the fact that they’re all either actual adults with actual, grown-up jobs or _almost_ actual adults with actual grown-up jobs — Jungeun, Jiwoo and Heejin are all about to go into their fourth year of university; Jinsoul starts a paid internship in a few weeks, on the production team for a small entertainment company that debuted a girl group last February which swept every Rookie of The Year award; Sooyoung teaches under-twelves at a local dance studio but has been contacted by a few entertainment companies after a few of the choreography videos she posted on YouTube went viral; Joohyun has finished law school and has successfully secured a position in one of Seoul’s top law firms and Seulgi has started her own flourishing freelance photography business that, should she be interested, would have an opening for Jungeun next year after she graduates — they’ve found themselves playing the only party game stupider than spin the bottle.

“Jinsoul,” Ryujin begins, with a particularly evil glint in her eye. “Truth or dare.”

“Truth.”

Ryujin’s smirk gets wider, and Jungeun groans, mentally preparing herself for some invasive question of a probable sexual nature. “If you had to have a threesome with any couple in this room, who would it be? And you’re not allowed to pick Jungeun and someone else. No Jungeuns allowed. You have to be the hypothetical third wheel to an actual couple.”

Almost immediately, the entire group of people congregated around the large coffee table in Joohyun and Seulgi’s living room start vying for Jinsoul’s attention. Heejin and Hyunjin are making kissy faces at her. Sooyoung has a disturbing look on her face that Jungeun thinks is supposed to be her bedroom eyes and Jiwoo is giving her puppy-dog eyes. Seulgi is flexing while Joohyun is making a show of sliding the gigantic diamond off her finger. Yeji just shakes her head when Jinsoul looks at her. Sana hikes the bottom of her dress an inch or so up her thighs, and Momo undoes a button on her shirt. Haseul takes a moment to remind Jinsoul of just how much money she and Kahei will collectively be making once they’re both finished with their respective degrees.

“Joohyun and Seulgi,” Jinsoul replies, instantly met with raucous laughter. “Sorry Seulie, but they make all this money _now._ ”

“Is that all we are to you?” Joohyun grumbles at the same time as Seulgi says, “Was it my biceps or my abs that swayed you?”

“I can’t believe this betrayal,” Sooyoung pouts. “I flirted with you for _weeks_ when we first met.”

“Did you?” Jinsoul asks, sounding so surprised that there’s no way she’s faking it. “You told me your shirt was made of girlfriend mater— wait, _that_ was you flirting? How on earth did you successfully seduce so many girls? Are your abs that distracting?”

“Yes,” Jiwoo says, sounding a bit disappointed with herself.

“I’m so proud, unnie,” Heejin sighs, theatrically placing a hand over her heart and giving Jinsoul a fond look. “Just over a year ago you couldn’t even admit you were into girls and now you’re propositioning a newly engaged couple while your girlfriend sits right next to you. That takes real balls, my friend.”

“Was that an actual offer?” Seulgi asks, looking horrifyingly interested.

Jungeun tightens her hold on Jinsoul’s hand where they’re clasped together in her lap. “Back off,” she grumbles, scooting closer to Jinsoul and glowering at Seulgi when she blows them a kiss.

The party continues, as parties do.

It’s late in the evening, and the living room is much less crowded than it was earlier, seemingly half the population of Seoul piling into the apartment to congratulate Joohyun and Seulgi.

There’s the usual little group, plus Yeri and Other Sooyoung, who announced their relationship by arriving hand-in-hand earlier — _some sister you are, trying to upstage me at my own engagement party,_ Joohyun had muttered despite the affectionate look on her face — and a handful of various other relatives and friends and coworkers of the newly engaged couple.

Haseul and Kahei are also present, Haseul having moved back to Seoul after four years away to start law school, and Kahei coming with her to do her residency at one of the hospitals in the city.

Yeojin, now eighteen years old and about to be a freshman, is also here with Yerim, her best friend from back in Cheongju, and Haseul has been watching them like a hawk all night.

“I can’t believe she’s here. At a party. In Seoul. With a beer in her hand,” Haseul says, sounding more despondent the longer she goes on. “I feel like the crypt keeper.”

“You know she’s starting university here next month, right?” Jungeun points out.

“The crypt keeper, Jungie,” Haseul repeats flatly. “I’m ancient.”

“What does that make me then?” Jinsoul pouts. “I’m older than you.”

“The crypt keeper’s unnie?” Jungeun offers, and laughs when Jinsoul glares at her.

“Personally I’m less concerned about your sister being old enough to start university and underage drinking and more horrified by whatever the hell is going on next to them,” Sooyoung says in disgust.

 _Next to them_ is referring to Sooyoung’s sister Hyejoo and Jinsoul’s sister Chaewon. The four of them are the youngest at the party by far, banding together like a little freshman troupe, and Hyejoo and Chaewon appear to have taken a liking to each other. They’ve been flirting shyly most of the night, much to Sooyoung’s revulsion and Jinsoul’s amusement, and they’ve almost worked their way up to the holding hands stage. Hyejoo’s left pinky keeps bumping against Chaewon’s right, and Jungeun almost wants to march over there and tell Chaewon to take the hint if only for the sake of Hyejoo’s ears, which are approaching an alarming shade of red.

“They’re also both starting here next month,” Jungeun points out. “You’re going to have to put up with that all the time.”

“Absolutely not,” Sooyoung grumbles, shooting a dirty look at Jinsoul. “I know what you Jungs are like.”

“You’re just upset I didn’t notice your flirting in freshman year,” Jinsoul retorts, sticking her tongue out at Sooyoung childishly.

Sooyoung, equally as childishly, flips her off.

Jungeun drifts around the party for another hour or so, flitting between people and conversations, until she spots Jinsoul by herself outside on the balcony.

She hasn’t seen Jinsoul in a while, and Jiwoo and Sooyoung are rapidly approaching the stage of inebriation where they forget other people are present, so Jungeun doesn’t feel too bad about ditching them and going to join her girlfriend.

There’s two little heat lamps at each end of the balcony, so it isn’t as cold as Jungeun was expecting as she slips through the sliding doors.

“Hey,” she says, joining Jinsoul by the railing. “What are you doing out here by yourself?”

Jinsoul gives her a soft smile, wrapping her arm around Jungeun and tucking her into her side. “Hi. I was just getting some air. Didn’t miss me too much, did you?”

“No comment,” Jungeun says, leaning her head on Jinsoul’s shoulder as Jinsoul chuckles in response.

Seoul stretches out below them, the stars in the night sky above drowned out by the sparkling lights of the city. Apart from the muffled noise of the party behind them and the gentle hum of the heat lamps, it’s quiet on the balcony. Which is normal for Jungeun, but not so much for Jinsoul. A quiet Jinsoul usually means an overthinking Jinsoul, but whether it’s a good or bad thing depends on what exactly is on her mind.

“You okay?” Jungeun asks after a little while, nudging Jinsoul in the side.

“Yeah, I’m just thinking about what Heejin said earlier.”

Jungeun raises an eyebrow, lifting her head from Jinsoul’s shoulder to stare at her. “About you propositioning Joohyun-unnie and Seulgi-unnie?”

“No!” Jinsoul squeaks. “About how different things were last Christmas. A year ago I couldn’t even admit that I like girls, and now look at me. A distinguished, refined bisexual.”

Jungeun snorts. “At least two-thirds of that sentence is up for debate, but you’re into girls, huh? Does that mean I have a shot?”

“Oh, I’m flattered, Jungeun-ssi,” Jinsoul says, eyes lighting up as she plays along. “But I’m afraid I have a girlfriend, and I’m like, obsessed with her.”

“Yeah? What’s she like?”

“Well, she’s a bit grumpy sometimes—”

“Hey!”

“—but underneath that tsundere front she likes to put on, she’s a total softie. The sweetest, kindest person I’ve ever met. She takes care of me and she makes me feel so loved. She’s funny, and smart, and talented, and oh my God she’s so hot.” Jungeun squeaks in surprise when Jinsoul’s hands drop below her waist to quickly cop a feel of her ass. “Not that I only love her for her body, of course. I also love her for her sugar addiction and gross bubble tea order, the way she has the sleeping pattern of an eighty year old grandma—”

“Thin ice, unnie,” Jungeun mutters, even as she feels her ears turning red.

“—her passion for photography, the way she laughs like a pterodactyl, both her ability to cook _and_ her willingness to cook for me, the way she is probably the only person in the world who actually listens to me when I start nerding out about _all that dorky shit you’re obsessed with._ ”

“Paraphrasing from Sooyoung?”

“Paraphrasing from Sooyoung.”

Jungeun hums thoughtfully, fighting the dumb smile she can feel tugging at her lips. “This girl sounds pretty great. You are one lucky lady.”

Jinsoul smiles at her, soft and warm and affectionate. “Yeah. You are, and I am.”

Sometimes it feels like a fever dream, suspended somewhere between reality and her imagination. They’ve been doing _this_ for a year now, and it’s still a little jarring every time Jungeun remembers that it’s real.

 _This_ being: waking up to Jinsoul’s peacefully sleeping face and messy bedhead most mornings and falling asleep tucked into her arms most nights. A semi-constant stream of texts whenever they’re apart, whether it’s Jinsoul sending Jungeun a stupid meme that makes her fondly roll her eyes, or Jungeun sending Jinsoul a picture of a cute dog she saw on her way to class and Jinsoul replying with a dozen exclamation marks, or simply to say _I love you._ Buying each other little gifts _just because_ or _I saw it and thought of you,_ leading to the little stuffed Moomin sitting on Jungeun’s windowsill and the limited edition Lego model of Doraemon (that Jungeun definitely lied about the price of) taking pride of place on Jinsoul’s Gundam shelf.

(Jungeun spent the majority of her time with Jinsoul beforehand anyway, but now it’s different. Now every time she feels the urge to take Jinsoul’s hand or lean in and kiss her she doesn’t have to fight it. She can just do it. There’s no wave of guilt from viewing her best friend in that light anymore, there’s just the warm and content feeling of happiness at getting to kiss her girlfriend.)

 _This_ being: a never ending string of dates, from romantic candlelit dinners at the most expensive restaurant they can afford, to an afternoon in an old-timey arcade trying to beat each other’s high scores on every game and then sharing a milkshake and a basket of fries after, to cooking dinner together after kicking various roommates out — well, Jungeun cooks, and Jinsoul helps, with varying levels of success — and then watching a few episodes of the latest drama Jungeun likes or continuing their _Haikyuu!!_ marathon until either someone falls asleep or they stop paying attention to the television and relocate from the sofa to the bedroom.

(They go to a cat café once, on a double date with Jiwoo and Sooyoung, and the sight of Jinsoul sitting on the ground with three kittens in her lap and a fourth trying to climb onto her shoulder almost makes Jungeun drop to one knee and whip out a diamond ring right then and there, regardless of Sooyoung’s sneezing in the background.)

 _This_ being: kissing her and feeling her heart take flight every time, whether it’s slow sleepy kisses in the morning when neither of them are fully awake yet, or quick casual kisses in lieu of a hello when they meet up in between classes for lunch or coffee or a walk around campus, or eager hungry kisses when they’re tangled up in bed together and the rhythm of Jinsoul’s fingers or mouth or hips is making her see stars and come apart at the seams.

(Jinsoul might be inexperienced, but she makes up for it with enthusiasm and, as Jungeun comes to find out, she is a _very_ quick learner.)

They’ve been doing _this_ for a year now, and Jungeun doesn’t think she’ll ever be fully accustomed to the overwhelming rush of love she feels every time Jinsoul kisses her, takes her hand, whispers that she loves her.

“I know what you mean,” Jungeun murmurs, and Jinsoul makes a confused _hm_ noise. “About how different things were a year ago, I mean. Last Christmas I was, I think, probably the most unhappy I’ve ever been. We weren’t talking, and I was convinced I’d ruined everything and that you wanted nothing to do with me ever again.”

Jinsoul’s arm tightens around her shoulders. “And this year?”

“And then this year I got to spend Christmas with my girlfriend and her family, enjoying her mom’s amazing cooking which sadly is not a genetic trait, and listening to her dad’s awful jokes which definitely _is_ genetic—” Jinsoul huffs and rolls her eyes, but she’s obviously fighting a smile while she does so. “—and then I got to ring in the New Year with her and kiss her at midnight while watching the fireworks. Turns out all those dumb romcom clichés aren’t quite as dumb when you have someone to do them with.”

“And you’re happy now, right?” Jinsoul asks in a small, vulnerable voice. “Like, I make you happy?”

“Every single day.” Jungeun gives Jinsoul a quick peck on the cheek before resting her head back on Jinsoul’s shoulder and looping her arms around Jinsoul’s waist. “There’s no one else I would choose, nowhere else I’d rather be than right here with you."

Jinsoul turns her head to press a kiss to Jungeun's forehead, and Jungeun knows for certain that this is where she belongs. Where they belong.

Jungeun and Jinsoul, exactly how it’s supposed to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for all the comments and kudos, i appreciate them all <3  
> you can find me on both twt and cc at lipsouldotcom :)


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